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THE 


STONE CUTTER OF LISBON. 

BY WM. HENRY PECK. 

IXDGEB LIBRARY, No. 7, ) 

Paper Cover, 50 cents. y Bound Volume, $1.00. 



STONIO. 


SUNDERED HEARTS. 


BY MRS. HARRIET LEWIS. 


LEDGER LIBRARY, No. 6, ) 

Paper Cover, 50 cents. V Bound Volume, $1.00. 



a 


t 


BUT TIIE LADY BARBARA WAVED HIM BACK 






LADY KILDARE. 


BY MRS. HARRIET LEWIS. 


LEDGER LIBRARY, No. S, 
Paper Cover, 50 cents. 


I 


Bound 


Volume, 


$ 1 . 00 , 








t 





% 


A MAD BETROTHAL 






A MAD BETROTHAL 


OR, 

NADINE’S VOW. 


21 Noticl. 


BY 



LAURA JEAN LIBBEY, 

a 


• AUTHOR OF 

* 

“Miss Middleton’s Lover,” “The Mystery of Black 
Tor Light-House,’ “ Ione,” Etc., Etc. 


NEAV YORK: 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 



l 13 u I) 1 i s li e rs . 

C-o 

THE CHOICE SERIES I ISSUED MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE, SIX DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO. 1. “MARCH, 1890. 
ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER. 


Copyright, 1888 and 1890, 

By ROBERT BONNER'S SONS, 


{All rights reserved.) 


PRESS OF 

THE NEW YORK LEDGER 
NEW YORK. 


•A MAD BETROTHAL. 


CHAPTER I. 

“i WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD; BUT I CANNOT, 
PAPA.” 

“ The duel must go on ! When the sun rises, I 
shall stand on this spot to kill or be killed, as fate 
may decree,” said Gilbert Wetherell, and he turned 
his fair, handsome face to his companions, with a 
faint smile. 

“ It is not yet too late to abandon it,” his friends 
were urging. “Remember, Captain Osmond is a 
dead shot. He is not here yet, and he will not be 
able to reach here on time ; and, after all, the fair 
face of a beautiful girl is not worth losing a life 
for.” 

The listlessness vanished from the blue eyes, 


10 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


gazing so indifferently afar off into the gray mist 
of the early morning, and Gilbert Wetherell 
wheeled suddenly about. 

“Say no more, my friends,” he exclaimed, 
hoarsely ; “I would lose twenty lives, if I had 
them, for her sake.” 

Just then they beheld a cloud of dust in the dis- 
tance, and behind it two coaches rapidly advanc- 
ing. 

“They are coming,” said Wetherell, his hand- 
some, debonair face turning a shade paler. 

He called his friend, Stanton Tracy, who was 
to act as his second, hurriedly to his side. 

“You have always been my friend, Tracy,” he 
said. “ Now listen to the last request I may ever 
ask of you, and give me your promise you will 
adhere to it faithfully.” - 

“You know you can rely upon me, old fellow,” 
replied Stanton Tracy, huskily. 

They pressed each other’s hand silently. Then 
Gilbert Wetherell continued : 

“If Hive, I shall go away at once, where no 
one who has ever known me can look upon my 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


11 


face. If 1 die , you must look in my breast pocket 
for two sealed letters you will find there. Give 
them with your own hands, Tracy, to the parties 
whose address is written upon them. You will 
find a portrait in an ebony case in the inner breast 
pocket. It is wrapped about by a silken curl. 
Those must be buried with me. You under- 
stand ?” 

“Yes,” replied Stanton Tracy. 

Wetherell leaned indifferently back against one 
of the beech trees, awaiting calmly the approach 
of the two coaches. There was no trembling, 
no hesitation, no flinching in his manner. His 
nonchalance did not desert him even in those 
moments which must have been terrible to him. 

He was as handsome a young man as one would 
wish to see. The figure was tall, finely formed, 
with a certain careless, easy grace. The head was 
well shaped and proudly set. Clusters of fair 
hair waved in lines of perfect beauty from a broad, 
white brow. The face itself was clearly cut, with 
handsome features, dark blue eyes, clear, straight 


12 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


brows, and the firm, resolute mouth was half 
hidden by a fair, drooping mustache. 

Acting upon a sudden impulse, he took the por- 
trait from his breast pocket, and, opening the 
case, looked long and earnestly at the girlish face 
thus revealed upon the white, polished ivory. 

It was a face that many a man might have been 
pardoned for going mad over — dark, piquant, 
sparkling — wholly irresistible; rounded, dimpled 
cheeks, like the glowing heart of a wild red rose, 
and a dimpled chin ; dark, laughing eyes, and a 
demure little mouth curved like Cupid’s bow. 

For one moment Wetherell held the portrait in 
his slender, white hand, as though those dainty, 
exquisite features would be engraven on his heart 
through eternity. A passionate murmur of inco- 
herent words broke from his lips. 

“ They are almost here, Wetherell,” said Tracy. 
‘‘ They have turned the bend in the road.” 

The words recalled the other. He thrust the 
portrait back into his pocket. 

“ Good-bye, my little love,” he murmured, his 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


13 


lips quivering a little, his face paling. Then he 
wheeled suddenly about. 

“They will find me ready, Tracy,” he said. 
“ This affair cannot be gotten over too quickly to 
suit me.” 

The two coaches came to a sudden halt ; the 
doors of the vehicles were thrown open, and from 
the foremost one sprang a tall young man, in 
military clothes, who scowled darkly as he ad- 
vanced with his friends toward the clearing where 
Gilbert Wetherell stood. 

“ He is on the ground first ” muttered Captain 
Osmond, sneeringly. “Well, a few moments 
will decide the momentous question which of us 
will live to woo and win the fair young beauty 
for which each of us perils his life.” 

Ere we disclose the tragic issue of this event, we 
will briefly explain the terrible cause that led to it. 

One bright, sunny morning but a few weeks 
previous to the opening of our story, Judge Halsey 
sat in his comfortable study at “Uplands,” as his 
magnificent country seat on the banks of the 
Hudson was called, his brows knit into a decided 


14 I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 

frown of annoyance as he read slowly through 
from beginning to end for the second time the 
brief epistle he had received that morning 
It was from one of the teachers of Roslyn 
College, and ran as follows : 

“ Judge Halsey, Cornwall, N. Y. 

“ Respected Sir : I am requested to write you 
once more in reference to your daughter, Nadine. 
We very much fear that we shall be unable to 
keep her here, for the same reason I stated in my 
last complaint— she revolutionizes the whole 
school and incites the rest of the scholars to mis- 
chief. Her last offence has been of so grave a 
nature, we believe it our duty to send for you and 
lay the whole matter before you. There is a 
young man connected with the affair of whom we 
feel in duty bound to warn you, for Nadine’s sake. 
Trusting you will see the necessity of coming on 
at once, I remain yours, with deep regret. 

“Madame Rudolph.” 

The judge leaned wearily back in his chair. 

“ The child is a veritable Tartar ! ” he groaned — 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


15 


“ wild as a hare and as untamable as a mermaid ! 
What has she done now, I wonder, and what am 
I to do with her if I bring her home ? She is more 
of a source of anxiety to me at sixteen than when 
she was a child of six. I thought I wrote a stern 
letter to her last Tuesday. It seems to have done 
no good whatever.” 

Looking through the lace-draped window, he 
saw his sister-in-law, Mrs. Dorchester, (a comely 
widow, who with her only daughter, Maud — a 
fair-haired, pretty young girl — who made their 
home with him) coming up the gravelled walk. 

Calling them into the study, he laid the letter 
impatiently before Mrs. Dorchester. 

“It is the same old story,” he began, abruptly. 
“Nadine is to be expelled from college. We have 
exhausted the list of schools far and near. We 
cannot get a governess who can be induced to 
remain here the first week out. And as for — ” 

The sentence never was finished. The door 
was suddenly burst open, and a bundle of white 
mull, crimson ribbons and brown flying curls 
came bounding into the room like a veritable 


16 


I WOTJLD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 




whirlwind, and in an instant the judge found two 
soft, white arms flung round his neck, and him- 
self subjected to a bear-like hug, a pair of rosy lips 
kissed him with a resounding smack, and a saucy, 
gay, girlish voice cried out : 

“ There wasn’t the least bit of use in your writ- 
ing that horrid letter, you dear, foolish old papa 
— saying I was to ask that mean, prim old Miss 
What’s-er-name’s pardon for telling her what I 
thought of her. I wouldn’t do it if I died for it. 
So there ! I ran away first and here I am. Aren’t 
you glad to see me, really, now ?” 

Before the flustered, surprised judge had time 
to reply, Nadine, the petted, spoiled little heiress, 
who was at one and the same time the pride and 
torment of Uplands, had darted off to greet her 
cousin Maud, and to plant the shadowy excuse of 
a kiss upon Mrs. Dorchester’s angry, ruffled brow, 
much to that lady’s annoyance. 

“ Nadine ! ” began the judge, severely, “ what 
in Heaven’s name am I to do with you, you little 
savage ?” 

In a moment the slim, girlish figure was by his 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


17 


side again. A little hand, white and soft as a lily 
leaf, came down suddenly over his mouth, and a 
saucy young voice cried out, coaxingly : 

‘‘Don’t send me to school any more, papa ; I 
know quite enough already. Let me throw those 
stupid old books down the well. I’d rather read 
love stories of handsome women and brave men, 
or thrilling adventures like — ” 

“ Nadine !” cut in her aunt, with a pious gasp, 
holding up her hands in affected horror. ‘ £ Heaven 
save us ! she’s growing romantic ! She is, indeed, 
Judge !” 

“Nadine !” mimics the girl, in her aunt’s high 
shrill voice. “Don’t faint, Aunt Dorchester,” 
she adds, serenely, as she perches herself on the 
velvet hassock at her father’s side. “No doubt, 
you were fond of romances, too, years and years 
and years ago, when you were young.” 

Now this was a subject on which the little 
widow was extremely “touchy,” as Nadine well 
knew ; for despite the fact that her daughter 
Maud was eighteen, Mrs. Dorchester was but five- 


18 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


and-thirty. She was a woman who was not 
pleased to grow old ; she had a horror of it. 

Mrs. Dorchester, too angry for reply, flounces 
out of the room in high dudgeon, bidding Maud 
follow her. She is rather glad of that, for watch- 
ing the judge sideways, out of the corners of 
those roguish, great black eyes, she sees she is in 
for a big lecture ; she knows it by the fire that 
flashes in his eyes, and by the way he draws 
down the corner of his mouth. 

“ Papa,” she breaks in, penitently, “ don’t lee- 
ture me — don’t ! Smile, and I’ll promise anything 
you want me to ; but frown, and I’ll — well, I’m 
a Halsey, you know, papa, and it is said of them, 
‘They can be coaxed, but never driven,’ and I’m 
a regular chip off — ” 

“ Nadine !” thunders the judge, sternly, “what 
is it that Madame Eudolph complains of in this 
letter ? Who and what is the man she refers to ?” 

A swift, tell-tale flush sweeps over the lovely 
young face ; then a merry laugh, that startles 
the birds from their nests in the old trees outside, 
breaks from the rosebud lips. 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


19 


“ Only the music-master, papa,” she declared. 
“Our regular professor was absent one day last 
week, and — and — a new one came in his place.” 

Should she tell her father that she had met this 
“ new one ” the week before, and very romanti- 
cally, too ? Ah, no, she could not tell him. She 
blushed, and continued : 

“ He— he — was just a little bit ‘ struck’ with 
me — as we girls call it — at first sight, and he 
wrote a note telling me so. It fell into the 
madame’s hands, and there was an explosion — a 
commotion — a cyclone — then and there, and the 
poor fellow was sent away post haste.” 

Judge Halsey had started up from his seat in 
indignant horror. 

“ The scoundrel !” he gasped. “ I declare it is 
getting so a man’s young daughters are hardly 
safe in the sanctuary of a school. If he ever 
crosses your path again I’ll horsewhip the villain 
within an inch of his life ! You hear, Nadine?” 

It was the first time in her young life Nadine 
had ever seen her father thoroughly aroused to 


20 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


anger, and she looked up into his stormy face with 
open-eyed astonishment. 

It did not occur to the judge to ask Nadine if 
she had seen the fellow again . He sprang to his 
feet, pacing excitedly up and down, stopping short 
at length before her. 

“You have long since known my plans for 
your future, Nadine,” he said, hoarsely. “ See 
that they are carried out. Now listen to my 
orders — nay, my commands — which you dare not 
break.” 

Nadine lifts her curly head from her little pink 
palms, and the great, dark eyes expand in wonder 
as she looks at the irate judge demurely. She is 
used to being pleaded with — never commanded— 
and a spirit of rebellion rises in her heart at once. 

“You have long since known my plans for 
your future, Nadine, ” continued the judge. ‘ ‘ The 
dearest wish of my heart will be gratified if you 
marry Gilbert Wetherell, when you are old 
enough.” 

“ I hate him !” cried Nadine, shrilly. “ I hate 
the very sight of him J” 


I WOULD LOVE HIM IF I COULD. 


21 


“ It is not a very long road from hate to love,” 
commented the judge. “ He is a straightforward 
manly young fellow, whom I have known from 
his boyhood up.” 

“You needn’t enumerate his good qualities, 
papa,” declared Nadine. “I’ve heard all about 
them so long it’s an old story now.” 

“He loves you, Nadine, and has asked your 
hand in marriage. I have promised to consider 
the matter, when you are old enough.” 

“I suppose he did not consider it necessary to 
consult me,” cried Nadine. “If he had, I should 
have told him I wouldn’t marry him to save his 
life !” 

• The chances are that if the judge had forbidden 
her to care for him when Gilbert Wetherell had 
first met the willful little beauty, out of pure 
defiance she would have fallen in love with him 
straightway. He had surrendered at once to her 
charms, and there was nothing very romantic 
about that in Nadine’s eye. She wanted a hero, a 
lover quite different from ordinary mortals, who 
should do some brave deed to gain her favor. 


22 ' THE GALLANT YOUNG CAPTAIN. 


CHAPTER II. 

THE HANDSOME, DASHING, GALLANT YOUNG CAP- 
TAIN. 

During her second week at boarding-school, 
Nadine had met her ideal ; and it happened in a 
most strangely romantic way. 

The young ladies, headed by one of the teachers, 
had been out for their morning airing. It was a 
pretty and bewildering sight to see such a bevy of 
bewitching girls filing down the street, and it 
always attracted the young men of the place, who 
were sure to be on hand at some street corner to 
watch the girls as they passed by. 

All notion of flirtation was speedily put to flight 
by the keen, withering glances of the argus-eyed 
duenna who followed up the rear. 

Among the group of young men who happened 
to be loitering about the streets on this eventful 
morning, which was to change the current of two 
youthful lives, was a tall, dashing, dark- eyed 


THE GALLANT YOUNG CAPTAIN. 


23 


young man — a stranger in Deepdale — whom his 
friends knew as Captain Osmond. 

“ Shall we move on, or wait until the beauties 
pass?” said his friend, espying the young ladies 
from afar oft coming in their direction. “ It’s the 
college girls out for an airing. It’s a pretty sight, 
by George !” 

“We will wait here, by all means,” declared 
the handsome captain, adding, with a laugh, as 
he twirled the ends of his dark, curling mustache : 
“If there’s anything I have a weakness for, it is 
pretty girls.” 

“I know it,” responded his friend, laconically. 
“Your reputation in that line has preceded you. 
You ought to be labelled dangerous .” 

“ Dangerous ?” repeated the handsome captain, 
laughing softly. “ What else, pray ?” 

“And fickle,” exclaimed his friend, handing 
him a cigar, proceeding to light a match on the 
sole of his polished boot. 

“Anything else to add to the true bill?” in- 
quired Osmond, bowing with mock courtesy, and 
frowning slightly. 


21 


THE GALLANT YOUNG CAPTAIN. 


“ I might add, handsome as a prince, and heart- 
less as the devil himself,” laughed the other, 
uproariously. 

But Osmond had not heard ; his attention was 
riveted on the young girls passing by, who 
blushed deeply, and turned their modest gaze 
aside as they encountered the dark, bold eyes of 
the admiring stranger. 

“ Who is that rosebud of a girl to the left— the 
fourth one back from the lynx-eyed madame ?” 
whispered Osmond of his companion. “ Do you 
know her ?” 

“ She’s Judge Halsey’s daughter, of Cornwall,” 
returned the other. “ Isn’t she a darling ? They 
call her the belle of Roslyn, and she deserves the 
name.” 

Captain Osmond drew his breath hard — for the 
first time in his life a strange thrill shot through 
his heart, and, glancing up at that moment, 
Nadine beheld the dark, dangerous eyes flashing 
with eager light gazing straight into her own. 

He gave his head a slight, graceful inclination. 
He would have liked to have raised his hat in 


THE GALLANT YOUNG CAPTAIN. 


25 


salutation of so much youth and beauty, but he 
dared not. 

Nadine’s cheeks burned scarlet as sne turned 
away. 

He saw he had attracted her attention, and he 
was well pleased. He promised himself he should 
see her a-gain, and speak to her, too. “ Where 
there was a will there was always a way ” — for 
he was desperately in love with her — and at first 
sight. But how was he to accomplish it ? 

Fate marked out a way for him sooner than he 
expected, and it came about, too, while he was 
humming over the lines : 

“ A man had given all other bliss, 

And all his worldly wealth for this, 

To waste his whole heart in one kiss 
Upon her perfect lips. 

At that moment there was a terrible shout ; a 
cry of horror went up from the paralyzed throngs 
that filled the street. 

“ A mad dog !” they shrieked. “Fly for your 
lives ! The brute is coming this way !” 


26 THE GALLANT YOUNG CAPTAIN. 

There was a panic among the girls. With cries 
of terror they fled pell-mell in all directions — all 
save Nadine, who stood still, dazed with horror, 
unable to move hand or foot. 

A gasp broke from her lips. The dog had seen 
her standing in his path, and was making toward 
her. It was a terrible sight, the large Newfound- 
land dog, black as night, mad, foaming at the 
mouth, uttering terrible sounds, pursued by two 
or three men. The more the men shouted, the 
faster the dog ran. 

Another moment and the dog was upon Nadine. 
He sprang forward, with a terrible yell, at her 
throat. She caught one sight of the hideous face, 
the open jaw, the swollen tongue hanging black 
from his mouth ; then, in that awful moment 
that seemed the length of eternity, there was a 
loud report of a revolver, and when the smoke 
cleared away, they saw the brute lying dead at 
the girl’s feet, and handsome Captain Osmond, - 
with the smoking revolver which had ended his 
career, standing before her. 

“l am a dead shot,” he. had time to say to her 


THE GALLANT YOUNG CAPTAIN. 


27 


before the crowd gathered around them ; “but if 

V. ' 

I had missed that brute— missed saving you — 1^ 
should have put a bullet through my own heart.” 

She had just time to give him one grateful look ; 
then the teachers, who had by this time recovered 
from their fright, came quickly forward, hurrying 
Nadine away, and thanking the young man for 
his timely rescue. 

For days after that he haunted the streets 
around and about Roslyn College, but he could 
see no signs of Nadine. He surmised that they 
kept her in under surveillance, lest an attachment 
might spring out of the romantic affair. And in 
this he was quite correct. 

Nadine was not permitted beyond the grounds 
in the rear of the building, for they had espied the 
handsome young officer hanging about. 

And Nadine rebelled bitterly, awaiting with the 
utmost impatience the time when she should be 
permitted to join her companions on their morn- 
ing airings ; and she wondered vaguely, too, if 
she should ever see the handsome stranger again. 

Captain Osmond was not the man to give up an 


28 


THE GALLANT YOUNG CAPTAIN. 


object easily. He had made up his mind that he 
should see the girl again, in spite of a whole army 
of teachers and barricaded doors. But how w r as 
he to accomplish it ? Ah, there was the rub ! 

At length a bold idea came to him, and he 
carried it out straightway. 

He had encountered the old music master com- 
ing from the college, one afternoon, and then and 
there the plan shaped itself in his mind. 

If there was one accomplishment the dashing 
captain possessed above all others, it was a genius 
for music. He put it to use now, and it served 
his purpose well. 

It will never be known just how he accomplished 
his object. The professor of music was proud and 
poor — whether the fifty-dollar note the captain 
offered him, just to be allowed to take his place 
for one day, was too much of a temptation to be 
resisted, or whether he allowed himself to be per- 
suaded into it, — the fact remains, that he did 
agree to it, and the time came, in the after years, 
when he cursed himself for it, and would have 
given his life, almost, to undo that wretched act 


THE GALLANT YOUNG CAPTAIN. 


29 


of folly ; for it was the first step that led to a bit- 
ter tragedy. 

No one would have recognized, in the sedate 
appearing gentleman — (whose face was concealed 
by the blue glasses he wore) — and who presented 
himself in the professor’s place at the college, 
armed with a letter, asking that he might act in 
his stead for that day — no one would have recog- 
nized in him the dashing young captain. 

As the young ladies filed into the music-room, 
he had little difficulty in singling out pretty 
Nadine at once. 

He could not resist the impulse to seize a pencil 
and dash off an impassioned note, begging her to 
see him, if for but five minutes, by the sycamore 
tree in the rear grounds at noon. 

He had tossed it dexterously into her lap as he 
passed her, but not so quickly but that the lynx- 
eyed madame sa w it, and suppressing a cry, sprang 
forward, and captured it at once. 

And as Nadine had expressed it, there was a 
scene that beggars description. In a twinkling 
the captain found himself ignominiously routed, 


30 


THE GALLANT YOUNG CAPTAIN. 


and there was nothing for it but to beat a hasty 
retreat, and that, too, before Nadine had even 
learned his name. 

The next day Nadine was grimly informed that 
he had left Deepdale. Rebellious little Nadine 
had retorted in bitter chagrin, setting them all at 
defiance by declaring if he had not gone, that she 
would certainly have seen him, just for pure 
spite. 

And that was how the letter happened to be 
sent to the judge, and Nadine had followed it by 
running away from school. 

“ She is more like a fiery, untamed little savage 
than anything else I can compare her to,” groaned 
the madame, when they found the rope dangling 
from her window to the ground the next morning, 
showing which way and how she had made her 
exit. The room was empty ; the bird had flown. 
“I shall not take her back again unless she asks 
my pardon on her knees for this escapade.” 

That showed how little she really understood 
willful, rebellious Nadine’s nature. 

Captain Osmond had not left the place, as they 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


31 


supposed ; but when he heard the story of Nadine’s 
flight he made up his mind instantly to follow her 
to Uplands. 


CHAPTER III. 

“evidently a fatal mistake has been made.” 

1 ‘ He either fears his fate too much, 

Or his deserts are small, 

Who fears to put it to the touch, 

To win or lose it all.” 

Maud Dorchester and her mother talked the 
matter over long and earnestly when they reached 
their own rooms. 

“Now, after all our plotting and planning, 
Nadine is home again,” said Maud bitterly. “I 
do wish we could think of some means to keep 
her out of the way until I can catch a rich hus- 
band. No one will give me the second look when 
she is near.” 

“ It is a terrible disadvantage to have two beau- 
tiful girls in the same house,” sighed Mrs. Dor- 


32 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


Chester ; but what can we do, Maud ? We must 
live here on your uncle’s bounty until you marry. 
I never give up the hope that you can win Gilbert 
Wetherell yet.” 

The girl’s face flushed a burning red. 

“He is the only man I have ever seen whom I 
could really love, mamma,” she said, huskily ; 
“ but he has eyes and ears for no one. but Nadine. 
When we are together, he will talk of nothing — 
no one else — until I fairly despise the sound of the 
name. Mamma,” — and she took a step nearer 
her, and laid a little, white, trembling hand on her 
arm — “you must find some means of keeping 
them apart. If she won him from me I should 
hate her through life !” 

Mrs. Dorchester was terribly shocked. A thun- 
derbolt from a clear sky could not have appalled 
her more than this startling discovery. She 
never dreamed before that her daughter loved 
Gilbert Wetherell. Such a passionate avowal of 
the true state of her feelings bewildered her. 
What would happen to her beautiful, brilliant 
daughter if she failed to win the love she craved ! 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


33 


She looked anxiously at Maud, standing there by 
the lace-draped windows, with the June sunshine 
falling about her. 

The girl did not blush nor avert her face ; she 
showed none of the sweet, natural confusion that 
a young girl feels when she first speaks to her 
mother on that most delicate of all subjects — her 
love affairs. And Mrs. Dorchester realized that 
Maud’s was a dangerous love. 

She made it a point to plead hard with her 
brother-in-law that evening to send Nadine back 
to school at once. 

“ She is here now, and she may as well stay to 
the archery party Maud is to have this week, ” he 
declared. “After that event she shall he sent 
back.” 

There was no help for it, so Nadine stayed, 
much to Maud’s chagrin. 

Two days later, the little village was thrown 
into a state of great excitement by the sudden 
announcement that the “Willows” — a palatial 
mansion which had been closed for long years, 
and left to isolation, dust and crumbling decay — 


34 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


was let at last, and its occupant, a young and 
single man, with a troop of servants, had already 
taken possession of it. 

Those who had seen the young master of the 
“Willows” — as he stepped from the car on the 
night he arrived, gave glowing descriptions of his 
dark, haughty face, with the rich, kingly beauty 
of a Greek god. All the pretty village maidens 
were “just dying to catch a glimpse of him,” as 
they quaintly phrased it. But the handsome 
stranger seemed in no hurry to satisfy the hungry 
public gaze. 

“ Shall we send him a card to the archery 
party?” queried Nadine of Maud. “There are so 
few really nice young men in the village, and if 
lie is to be our neighbor, it wouldn’t be polite to 
slight him. What is his name ?” 

“ Captain Osmond,” said Maud. 

The card was sent, and a graceful acknowledg- 
ment and acceptance was received the next day 
from the handsome stranger. 

The archery grounds in the rear of the villa 
were elaborately decorated for the occasion. It 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


35 


was a novel and pretty sight when they were all 
out in the grounds, the gentlemen in dress coats, 
and the young girls- all robed alike in their archery 
suits — white mull, gathered at the waist, and with 
only a plain hem at the bottom, boasting of neither 
overskirts or frills — with a golden girdle about their 
slender waists, to which was attached a gilded chain 
with a receptacle for the arrows. 

They were all out on the grounds when Captain 
Osmond made his appearance. He was the only 
gentleman present who appeared in a uniform. 

Nadine had not observed him. She was stand- 
ing talking with Gilbert Wetherell, with her back 
turned toward the entrance gate when he arrived. 

Gilbert had but just greeted her, and would 
have still kept the little white hand imprisoned in 
his, hut Nadine drew it petulantly away. 

He looked wistfully at her — this bright, bewitch- 
ing girl for whom he would have been content to 
give up the whole world, he loved her so well. 

“You do not seem glad to see me, Nadine,” he 
said, slowly — “are you?” 

She laughed a gay, merry, rollicking laugh that 


36 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


made him flush to the very roots of his waving 
hair. 

“Of course I am,” she replied, her great black 
eyes twinkling roguishly ; “ but you don’t expect 
me to go into raptures over you, do you ?” 

A smile came to the grave lips that were not 
given to over-much smiling. 

“Not exactly,” he replied, “but I would be 
glad if you were to show a little more preference 
for my society. Promise me you will let me be 
your escort to the moonlight yachting party to- 
night, Nadine,” he went on eagerly. “You will 
not refuse ?” 

“You were very dull at the last yachting party,” 
she declared. “ Would you prove dull this time ?” 

“I hope not,” he said, with a strange smile. 
“I should like you to think that which I have to 
talk to you about this evening more interesting 
than anything you have ever heard before.” 

‘ ‘ What will it be about ?” she asked, wondering 
at his earnest tone. 

“ It will be about you and myself,” he answered. 

Then he paused abruptly, for she turned her 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


37 


face so frankly toward him he saw she had not 
the faintest idea of his meaning. 

“Then it cannot be very interesting,” Nadine 
replied, with a toss of her dark curls. 

Then he saw her catch her breath with a quick 
gasp, and a burning blush, like the heart of a wild 
rose, swept over her lovely face, and, following 
her gaze, he observed Captain Osmond, whom he 
had met a day or so before, standing under an 
adjacent sycamore tree, talking to Maud Dor- 
chester. 

“You have not given me your answer yet, 
Nadine,” he urged. “May I be your escort on 
the drive to and from the lake ?” 

“I suppose so,” she answered, impatiently, 
without giving the matter he was urging so much 
as a thought. She longed for him to go away, 
that her hero might come to her side. 

At length, discouraged at her inattention to his 
remarks, Gilbert turned away, and the next mo- 
ment Captain Osmond and Maud were standing 
before her. 

Maud presented the captain to Nadine, wonder- 


38 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


ing why the girl blushed so confusedly. She 
never dreamed they had ever met before. As she 
turned away a sudden idea came to her. What 
a glorious arrangement it would be if the captain 
and Nadine would fall in love with each other ! 
Then Gilbert Wetherell would be left for her. 
She might catch his heart in the rebound. 

For the next two hours mirth, laughter and 
pleasure ran riot. A handsome medal had been 
arranged for the gentleman who could hit the tar- 
get the greatest number of times without failure. 

When it came to Captain Osmond’s turn, he 
took the gilded arrows with a smile and a careless 
grace. They had not heard, then, of his wonder- 
ful skill in marksmanship. One after another the 
arrows flew straight to the mark never missing a 
hair’s breadth, and from that hour those who wit- 
nessed that exciting exhibition knew him to be a 
dead shot. 

A little later they were called to luncheon, 
which had been laid for them under the trees in 
regular picnic, rural fashion; and to Wetherell’ s 
intense annoyance, the dashing captain escorted 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


39 


Nadine. He noticed, with all of a lover’s keen 
jealousy the light in the bonny dark eyes when 
she raised them to the captain’s face as he talked 
to her — a light such as lie had never been able to 
bring to them. What could he be saying to 
Nadine ? 

There was one person at the archery fete who 
had witnessed Captain Osmond’s arrival and re- 
ception with amazement. 

“ Evidently the judge has made a mistake here,” 
he said to himself. “ I really fear it is my duty 
to warn him. Such a wolf should never be 
allowed in the pale of society to destroy the 
lambs. ” 

He sought the judge straightway, and laid his 
information before him. 

“ A roue and a gambler !” exclaimed the judge. 

‘ ‘ That is bad enough ; but a despoiler of homes ! 
Great Heaven ! such a man shall not be tolerated ! 
He must leave at once, and an expose must be 
avoided, as it would create too much of a scene 
and scandal. I shall take great care in the future 
to see that my doors are closed against him. My 


40 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


daughter and my niece shall be carefully excluded 
from society in which he is permitted to enter. I 
am glad you warned me.” 

The judge had gone out hastily on the lawn, 
and had gazed anxiously at the different groups 
of young folks strolling about. Maud was with 
one of the village beaux, and Nadine, the apple of 
his eye, the idol of his heart, was talking just 
then to Gilbert Wetherell. The handsome, dashing 
captain stood a little ways off, quite by himself. 

A sigh of relief escaped the judge’s lips. “ He 
has not attracted the admiration of either of the 
girls,” he muttered, satisfied. “ Nadine is safe 
with Wetherell. I was unnecessarily worried, it 
seems. Still, the note in my pocket must be 
handed him immediately.” 

How was he to know that Osmond had seen 
him approaching and had, but a moment before, 
hastily quitted Nadine’s side ? 

A little later, a servant came up to the captain. 

“ A note, sir,” he said. 

Captain Osmond tore it open, and devoured its 


A FATAL MISTAKE. 


41 


contents in a single glance and he crushed back 
an oath from between his white, even teeth. 

It merely stated that the judge would be grati- 
fied if he could find it inconvenient to remain for 
the yachting party. 

“ My unenviable reputation has found me out,” 
he muttered ; . then a devilish, malignant gleam 
flashed into his burning eyes. “ No man has 
ever yet insulted me without feeling the full 
force of my vengeance,” he cried, hoarsely. “You 
shall feel it, Judge Halsey — that I swear, and 
that, too, before twenty -four hours pass over your 
head — I will strike deep at your heart, and 
through your pretty daughter. You shall curse 
the hour in which you invited me to leave your 
house.” 

He crushed back his fiery rage, and with a 
sweet smile on his lips, crossed over to where 
Nadine stood. 

“ Will you walk with me as far as the gate ?” 
he asked. “ I am suddenly called away. I have 
come to say — not good-bye — but au revoir for just 
a little while.” 


42 


HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME. 


He saw the lovely young face grow pale. 

“ You shall not go away so soon,” she cried. 
“ You must stay and go to the yachting party with 
us. I — I should feel so bad if you did not.” 

“No,” he answered, pressing the little hand 
tenderly, and giving her a mesmeric glance. 
“You must all go without me — but 1 will join 
you there /” 


CHAPTER IV. 

“ HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME !” 

It had been a wonderful day to Nadine ; and 
meeting her handsome hero at Uplands had been 
so unexpected. 

The gay, gallant captain was well skilled in the 
ways of winning women’s hearts— none better, 
lie knew what to say, and how to say it. He 
knew the value of his every tender glance. 
Women seldom resisted those eyes ; which could 
plead and beseech, which could be so winning 
and tender. 


u he shall never take you from me.” 43 

He made the most of those sunny hours, and 
he was satisfied with the impression he had made 
when he saw Nadine’s cheek pale as they parted 
at the gate, and the shadows gather in her dark 
eyes. 

It was quite a little drive up the river to where 
the yacht was moored, and the young folks set 
out in carriages in the best of spirits. The old 
judge looked over the chattering group eagerly, 
and was relieved to find that the gay captain was 
not one of the party. 

Gilbert Wetherell had come quickly forward, 
reminding Nadine of her promise, and quite 
silently she allowed him to place her in his car- 
riage. What had come over gay, bright little 
Nadine ? Had she fallen in love with Captain 
Osmond ? he asked himself. He longed to warn 
her, yet feared to speak lest he should arouse the 
spirit of opposition in the girl. 

His grave, anxious eyes startled her. 

Suddenly she turned to him, and said : 

“ Captain Osmond was quite a valuable acqui- 
sition to our party, wasn’t he, Gilbert V 


44 “he shall never take you from me.” 

“ I hardly thought so,” he replied, testily. 

“Do you not like him?” she asked, wonder- 
ingly, as though there was something amazing in 
the idea that he did not. 

“No,” returned Wetherell, “I admit that I do 
not. Nature makes few mistakes, and she has 
written his character in his face.” 

“ It is a very handsome one,” opening wide her 
lovely, innocent eyes. 

“Handsome, vain, false and cold,” he said. 
“ The face of a man who has no heart — to whom 
a woman would cry for help and a child for pity 
all in vain.” 

“ How unjust you are !” she cried. 

“You seemed to wish my opinion, and I have 
given it,” he said. “ We need not disagree over 
him, Nadine ; he will not be here long, and when 
you are older you will be wiser.” 

“Iam quite wise enough now,” she replied, 
tossing back her bonny curls with a charming 
pout of the pretty rosebud lips. But even though 
she affected not to care, the words had turned her 
heart cold 


45 


“ HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME.” 

At Cranston’s Point, much to Wetherell’s dis- 
may, Captain Osmond joined the party again. 
Wetherell grew deadly pale as he saw him advanc- 
ing. The captain flushed darkly when he 
observed his rival talking to Nadine. 

They looked at each other as though they would 
fain weigh each other’s strength, and from that 
moment they were bitter enemies. 

“ If it is to be a drawn battle between us, so be 
it,” muttered the dashing captain, fiercely. 

Nadine was only a school-girl, unused to the 
great world of fashion in which she was destined 
to shine when she was old enough ; but no skilled 
coquette could have managed a pair of angry 
lovers with more diplomacy, for Nadine remem- 
bered the old adage— “ It is always well to have 
two strings to one’s bow.” 

There was music and dancing, mirth and laugh- 
ter, as the white-winged yacht glided over the 
star-kissed waves. 

Both Gilbert Wetherell and Captain Osmond 
kept at Nadine’s side ; neither would give the 
other the slightest advantage. 


46 


HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME. 


At length Gilbert was called aside for a moment, 
and he could not refuse to go ; and the captain 
had just time to whisper : 

‘‘Get rid of that fellow, in Heaven’s name, 
Nadine, that I may have you all to myself for a 
little while. You must manage it in some way. 
I am growing desperate.” 

They stood at one end on the deck amid the 
deep shadows; No one was noticing them, and 
the captain realized this was just the time and the 
place for a love scene, and he made the most of it. 
In a single moment he had poured out such a 
passion of love that he fairly bewildered her, 
carried her heart by storm, vowing he could not 
live without her, and if she told him she did not 
love him, he would end it all there and then by 
flinging himself in the cold, dark river. 

She clung to him in terror. 

“I do love you !” she cried. “ You must not 
die ! I could not bear it ! ” 

She would have hated the captain could she 
have seen the sneering smile that dark curling 
mustache of his covered at that identical moment. 


HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME. 


47 


The battle was easily won, he told himself ; and 
while he talked to the girl of passionate love, 
between every sentence he planned out his das- 
tardly revenge upon the judge — a devilish scheme 
worthy of the brain of a fiend. 

“ Do you love me so well you could give up the 
whole world for me ? ” he asked, in a tender 
pleading whisper. 

Remember how young she was, dear reader, 
and let her youth and her innocence plead for her 
when you read what followed. 

“ Yes,” she answered, impulsively, catching her 
breath with a little sob. 

“But your father, Nadine ?” he said, trem- 
ulously. “ He will never give you to me. I have 
heard that he wants to marry you to Wetherell 
because he is rich.” 

“ But I shall not marry him,” declared the girl, 
“ for I almost hate him.” 

“ I am going to put it to the test, Nadine,” said 
the captain, caressing her. “You have said you 
would ride back to the house in WetherelPs car- 
riage when you leave the yacht, but you must 


48 


“ HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME.” 

not ; you must go back in mine , and with me. 
We will take a different route to go back, but you 
will not mind ; we will have so much to say to 
each other. Here is Wetherell returning now,” 
he went on, hurriedly. “ I will go away that you 
may have an opportunity of telling him you have 
changed your mind about returning with him. 
Tell him, then get rid of him as quickly as you 
can, for I shall be all impatience to take my place 
by your side again.” 

Stooping hurriedly down, he pressed an ardent 
kiss on the lovely red lips that had never been 
caressed by a lover before, and moved on. 

A moment later Gilbert Wetherell joined her — 
ah ! so happy to find his rival was out of the 
way. 

“ Gilbert,” she said, shyly, as he came up to 
her, “I want to tell you something, but you must 
promise me beforehand that you will not be angry 
with me.” This pleadingly and coaxingly. 

“No need for the promise,” he said, quietly. 
“ You know I could not be angry with you. Tell 
me — what is it, Nadine ?” 


I 



CAPTAIN OSMOND AND NADINE IN THE DEEP SHADOWS 






























. 














fv, . 






. 



































. 

... 














HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME. 


49 


u 


5? 


He wondered why she did not speak. It was 
some girlish request — some favor for which he 
must tease the old judge. 

“What is it, my darling?” he asked, gently 
drawing the cold little hands in his own. 

“ Hush, Gilbert,” she said drawing back. 
“ You must not call me that. No one must say 
that word to me except my — my— lover, Captain 
Osmond.” 

The shock of those words was so great it would 
have killed a weaker man. He never flinched ; 
he never lost the clasp of the little trembling 
hands. Even in that moment of supreme agony, 
his first thought was for her. He loved her so 
well. 

Blind and foolish Nadine, would the world ever 
again give her a love like this ? Alas, how ruth- 
lessly she cast this noble heart aside. 

“Oh, Nadine,” he said, “I would have given 
my life to win you ; but madly as I love you, if 
your heart had gone out to a worthy man, I would 
have resigned you in silence ; but to that man — 
great God ! it must never be ! I would rather see 


50 


“ HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME.” 

you lying dead at my feet in your beauty and 
innocence.” 

“ Why?” she asked, tearing her little hands in 
hitter anger from his clasp. “ Why do you spe'ak 
so of Captain Osmond ?” 

“ Because he is a bad man, Nadine — a gambler, 
a liar, a roue ; because he has made playthings of 
women’s hearts and would not scruple at break- 
ing yours ; because he fears neither God nor man, 
and loves nothing in this world but himself.” 

“It is false !” she cried. “He is noble and 
true ! You are only meanly jealous of my lover. 
Do you hear, Gilbert Wetherell ? I will take his 
part against . the whole world ! I never knew 
before that you were a slanderer !” 

He never winced under the cutting words from 
the lips he loved. 

“It is no slander, Nadine,” he said. “lean 
give you abundant proof.” 

“ I do not want it,” she returned. “You have 
slandered a noble gentleman, and I hold you 
beneath contempt. Talk of dying for me, and in 
the same breath traducing the man I love ?” 


“ HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME. 51 

She turned away angrily, adding, as a parting 
shot : 

“ You shall go home by yourself ; I return with 
Captain Osmond.” 

He followed her, and laid his hand gently upon 
her arm. 

“ Nadine,” he said, earnestly, “let me save 
you.” 

But she flung his hand angrily away. 

“ Never speak to me again !” she cried — “ never 
again. Henceforth we are strangers or enemies — 
never again friends ! I forbid you to seek my 
presence or to speak to me. Do you hear ?” con- 
tinued Nadine, furiously. 

“I will obey you after this evening, Nadine,” 
he said, sadly. “But there is one thing I must 
insist upon. The judge intrusted me to bring you 
here, and I will return you to his safe keeping. 
I cannot think of permitting you to ride homo 
with Captain Osmond.” 

Those words only angered, incensed her tho 
more. 

“ He shall take me home !” she cried. 


52 “ HE SHALL NEVER TAKE YOU FROM ME.” 

“ Only over my dead body,” he answered, 
quietly. 

4 ‘We shall see,” she retorted, stamping her 
dainty little foot. “I will go with him now 
just for spite. Your despicable jealousy will avail 
you nothing.” 

“I have warned you, Nadine, that he shall 
not,” he answered, with quiet determination. 4 4 It 
will not take long to settle the matter, for we are 
just about to land now. Will you come with me 
quietly, dear little Nadine ?” he said, yearningly. 

She threw back her dark, curly head, and gazed 
at him with withering scorn, not deigning a reply. 

44 Come, Nadine,” he said, gently, his voice 
could never be anything else than gentle to this 
imperious, willful, beautiful darling whom he 
loved with all the strength of his heart. 44 They 
are all calling to us. Come, Nadine.” 

44 1 am going with Captain Osmond,” she re- 
peated, angrily. 4 4 He is coming for me now. 
Allow me to pass you, Mr. Wetherell.” 

44 You shall not go with him,” cried Gilbert 
Wetherell, hotly. 44 1 will kill him first, or he 
shall kill me, Nadine.” 


IT CAN NEVER BE. 


53 


CHAPTER, Y. 

“ IT CAN NEVER BE; I COMMAND YOU TO GIVE 
YOUR LOVER UP.” 

For one brief, intensely thrilling moment 
Nadine gazed into the white, stern face of her 
lover. 

Surely he could never mean those horrible 
words. He was only jesting. 

He must have read the doubt in the lovely face, 
for he repeated : 

“I brought you here; therefore do not for a 
moment imagine, because we have quarreled, 
that I shall permit my rival to take you home.” 

“ You have no choice in the matter,” returned 
Nadine, spiritedly. “If I choose to return with 
Captain Osmond, you cannot prevent me.” 

“ Again I repeat, he shall take you only over 
my dead body,” repeated Gilbert Wetherell, his 
face growing a shade paler. 

Nearer and nearer approached the dashing 


54 


IT CAN NEVER BE. 


(( 


young captain, passing Wetherell without deign- 
ing him so much as a look. 

“ Allow me to escort you to the other end of 
the yacht, Miss Halsey,” he said, proffering his 
arm with a low bow. “ See, our friends are leav- 
ing the boat.” 

Nadine laid her little white hand on the cap- 
tain’s sleeve, and turned away with him, and in 
that instant, pale as death, Gilbert Wetherell 
sprang before them. 

In Nadine’s memory ever after there lived the 
remembrance of fierce, bitter words that led to 
blows. 

“Not here and now, in Miss Halsey’s pres- 
ence,” she heard Gilbert say. “ I will see you 
later on, and we will soon settle this affair.” 

Nadine heard no more, for the sky and the 
water, and the two handsome, angry, defiant 
faces, seemed whirling around her. She threw 
up her white hands with a startled cry, and fell 
in a deep swoon at Gilbert Wetherell’s feet. 

In a trice the two gentleman had been separ- 
ated by their friends, who had been amazed at 


IT CAN NEVER BE. 


55 


u 


>> 


the encounter, but not before a few startling 
words had passed between them. 

The captain turned on his heel and strode away, 
while Gilbert gathered up the slight girlish figure 
at his feet, carrying her to his carriage, which 
stood in waiting. 

But as he placed her on the seat he saw she 
was reviving, and the water which they were 
bringing him for her would not be needed. 

Catching up the reins, he turned the heads of 
the horses towards Uplands. 

“ Nadine!” he cried, eagerly, as the dark eyes 
flashed open. 

She turned from him with a bitterly angry 
sneer on the lovely red lips. 

“Do not speak to me !” she cried, fairly trem- 
bling with wrath. “ That wall be the greatest 
favor you can do me !” 

“ I have something very important to tell you, 
Nadine,” he said gravely, his fair, handsome face 
flushing. 

“I refuse to listen !” she declared. 

“ In that case, I can but be silent,” he said, sor- 


56 


IT CAN NEVER BE. 


rowfully ; and a rigid silence was maintained 
between them during the remainder of the drive. 

He attempted to hand her from the carriage, 
but the willful little beauty sprang past him, dis- 
daining his assistance. 

“ Can I not have just one word with you, 
Nadine ?” he pleaded, following her to the porch. 
“ You may regret it some time if you refuse me.” 

“ When you apologize to the captain for your 
rudeness ; not until then.” 

Gilbert Wetherell drew back, as though she 
had struck him a mortal blow. 

“ Do not add insult to injury, Nadine,” he said, 
hoarsely. 

“You have my answer, Mr. Wetherell,” she 
replied. “ Let that settle it.” 

Turning abruptly away, Gilbert Wetherell 
walked slowly down the paved walk to his car- 
riage. As he was entering it, a horseman dashed 
swiftly up the road, drawing rein beside Wether- 
ell, and he saw by the clear, bright moonlight 
that it was his friend, Stanton Tracy. 


57 


“it can never be.” 

“Well, Tracy, how do matters stand?” asked 
Wetherell, leaning breathlessly forward. 

“The captain has accepted the challenge,” 
returned his friend, slowly, “and proposes Bryly 
Woods, three miles from here, as the place, and 
at sunrise as the time.” 

“ We will drive down the road and talk the 
matter over at our leisure,” said Wetherell, and 
in a moment more they were lost to sight amid 
the overarching trees that skirted the avenue. 

Meanwhile, Nadine, in crossing the porch, had 
run directly into the arms of the judge, who sat 
smoking in the shadows of the pillars. 

He had been a silent spectator of the parting 
between Nadine and Wetherell, and could hardly 
credit what he had heard. 

“ Oh ! is it you , papa ?” cried Nadine, starting 
back. “ How you frightened me !” 

“ I was here watching for you, my dear,” he 
answered. “You ought to have been here an 
hour ago. Had you been with any one but Gil- 
bert Wetherell I should have felt uneasy. By the 
by, my dear, you were speaking rather sharply 


58 


IT CAN NEVER BE. 


« 




to him as you ran up the steps. Have you been 
quarreling with him again ?” 

“ I suppose that I may as well admit that we 
are not on the best of terms, papa,” assented Na- 
dine, tossing back her dark curls. 

“ I heard you mention Osmond’s name to him,” 
said the judge. “ Repeat what you were saying.” 

“ Mr. Wetherell grossly insulted the captain on 
the yacht this evening, and I told him I should 
never speak to him again until he apologized to 
the captain.” 

The judge had sprung to his feet, fairly purple 
with rage, and faced his daughter. 

“ Do I hear aright, Nadine ?” he asked, sharply. 
“Do I understand you to say Captain Osmond 
went with the yachting party V' 

“Certainly,” she replied, wondering at his 
agitation. “ He did not go with us — some cir- 
cumstance prevented — but he joined the party at 
the point, and proved a delightful acquisition.” 

“ Stop ? Say no more !” exclaimed the judge, 
turning abruptly away. “ I should horsewhip 
the rascal for his bold effrontery in daring to join 


59 


“it can never be.” 

your party. I had expressly forbidden him to 
do so.” 

“ Papa !” gasped Nadine, in dismay, “what can 
you mean ? I am bewildered.” 

“No more or less than what I have said,” 
declared the irate old gentleman. “I learned, 

when too late, that we had made a mistake in 

\ 

asking Captain Osmond to the garden party, and 
I sent him word to decline accompanying you all 
to the yachting excursion ; and despite that , he 
dared to go ! The man’s effrontery is astound- 
ing !” 

Nadine drew back and looked at him. 

“I shall make it so uncomfortable for him,” 
declared the judge, grimly, “ that he will leave 
the place*” 

“Do you know what would happen if you 
should do that, papa ?” asked Nadine, beginning 
to sob. 

“Yes ; the neighborhood would be well rid of 
a scoundrel !” 

“You would break my heart !” she said, burst- 
ing into a passion of tears. 


60 


IT CAN NEVER BE.' 


a 




A thunderbolt falling from a clear sky — the 
earth suddenly opening beneath his feet, could 
not have startled Judge Halsey more. For a 
moment he was fairly speechless. 

And in that moment Nadine had poured into 
his dismayed ears the whole story of how and 
where she had first met the gallant captain ; how 
he had saved her life, and her gratitude had deep- 
ened into love : and when on the yacht he had 
told her that he cared for her, and life would be 
nothing to him in the future without her, that 
then and there they had solemnly betrothed them- 
selves to each other, vowing each to the other 
they would be true to their vow until death. 

Who shall describe the horror — the dismay of 
the old judge as he listened. That was the bit- 
terest moment of his life. 

“ He has dared speak to you of love without 
consulting me !” said the judge. 

“Of course, he asked me first, to find out 
whether I loved him or — or not,” said Nadine, 
hiding her blushing face on her father’s breast. 

He held her off at arm’s length, looking down 


61 


“ IT CAN NEVER BE.” 

into the lovely, girlish face as though he would 
read her very soul, as she stood there before him 
in the clear, bright moonlight. 

“ Do you love this man so very much, Nadine ?” 
he asked, hoarsely. “Answer me.” 

“Better than all the world beside,” replied 
Nadine, shyly. 

“You are all that is left to me of wife, chil- 
dren, and a once happy home. I have nursed 
and trained you. You have been my sole thought 
for years. Do you love him better than me ?” 

“ It is different,” she said, her face flushing. 

“It can never be, Nadine,” said the judge. 
“ You must learn to forget this man. If you can- 
not love Gilbert Wetherell, I will not urge it 
upon you ; but I shall never give you to Osmond 
— never ! This I solemnly swear !” 

He bent his gray head as he spoke. She 
sprang from him like a wounded bird. 

“And I say, papa,” she said, slowly, “that I 
am his. I have promised to be his wife, aijd I 
will keep my promise. ” 

“It is the maddest betrothal ever entered into, 


62 


IT CAN NEVER BE. 


u 


and you shall break it,” declared the judge. 
“You are young, and youth soon forgets. From 
this moment I forbid all mention of the man’s 
name. Go into the house and up to your own 
room, Nadine !” he commanded ; and there was 
that in his face which counseled obedience. 

“A mad betrothal!” she thought, indignantly. 
“I shall never forgive papa for those cruel 
words .” 

There was a sudden tap at the door. 

“May I come in, just a few moments ?” said a 
voice outside ; and, as she spoke, her cousin 
Maud thrust her head in at the door. 

“Yes,” said Nadine ; “I was just wishing for 
some one to talk to, Maudie,” pushing a velvet 
easy-chair toward her. 

“We would have had an exceptionally fine 
time of it, if it had not been for that little fracas 
on the yacht,” said Maud, sinking down on the 
proffered seat. “How in the world did it happen, 
and what was it all about ? No one caught an 
inkling of what occasioned it ; but you were 
standing so near both of them, you must have 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD. 


63 


heard. Of course, that was what caused you to 
swoon.” 

Should she make a confidante of Maudie ? Her 
heart cried out for girlish sympathy, but her bet- 
ter sense said “No.” 

How little she dreamed that that moment was 
the turning point in her life. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD THAT LEADS THROUGH 
BRYLY WOODS. 

Flinging herself down on a hassock by Maud’s 
feet, Nadinp told her all. 

“ You are really betrothed to that handsome 
captain ? ” gasped her cousin, thinking the startling 
news was almost too good to be true. 

“Yes, if papa does not break it off,” sighed 
pretty Nadine, ruefully. 

Maud looked searchingly into the lovely, girlish 
face. 


64 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD. 


“Do Vou remember the girl in the poem we 
were reading about, Nadine?” she said. “How 
she clung to the man she loved, giving up — aye, 
defying— the whole world for him. That was 
love. 

“I am between two fires, as we phrase it,” 
returned Nadine— “ my love for Captain Osmond, 
and the duty of obedience I owe to papa.” 

“There is not a girl in our set who would not be 
pleased to have won the love of so handsome a 
man as the captain,” pursued Maud, artfully. “I 
do not see what fault uncle can possibly find with 
him.” 

“ He wants me to marry Gilbert Wetherell when 
I am old enough.” 

Maud Dorchester’s face turned a shade paler ; a 
smouldering fire crept into the eyes the long 
lashes hid. 

“ And you have rebelled against giving your 
hand where your heart can never go ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Nadine. 

“I am afraid I should do the same thing were I 
in your place. I should imagine one of the 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD. 


65 


cruelest of fates would be to wed one whom you 
could never love. But I had almost forgotten to 
tell you what brought me into your cozy boudoir, 
and at so late an hour. As I passed the library a 
few moments since I saw mamma and uncle were 
sitting there, engaged in earnest conversation ; 
the door was open, and I could not help but hear 
what they said. Guess what it was.” 

4 ‘ Some conspiracy concerning me, no doubt,” 
laughed Nadine. 

Her cousin nodded. 

“ You are to be sent away from Uplands early 
to-morrow morning, and to go to Glen Farm to 
your Aunt Hester’s.” 

From her earliest recollection Nadine had 
always had a horror of this self-same farm ; its 
dreary surrounding, and the dingy red farm-house 
presided over by her grim aunt, who seemed to 
have forgotten years and years ago what it was 
to be young and gay, and to smile. 

Whenever she had been disobedient in her 
childhood she had always been threatened with 
being sent to “ Aunt Hester’s,” which threat was 


66 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD. 


always sufficient to bring the rebellious girl to 
subjection at once. 

“Oh, Maudie !” she cried, hysterically, “I 
should die of ennui if I were to go there. I 
won't go !” 

“ It would lighten the dreariness if the captain 
should find out where you had gone and follow 
you,” suggested Maud, slyly. 

A gay laugh rippled from Nadine’s crimson lips. 

“ Wouldn’t it be a grand joke to cleverly out- 
wit the judge?” cried Maud. “He could not 
help but be more amused than angry when he 
found it out ; besides, all is fair, they say, in love 
and war.” 

No thought of treachery or deceit occurred to 
Nadine as she readily consented to all this — sim- 
ply a girlish love of mischief. Girls of sixteen 
are not wont to weigh such matters in the scale 
of judgment, above all, when there is a handsome 
hero in the case. 

For some time after her cousin Maud had left 
her, Nadine stood by the lace-draped window, 
looking out into the still beauty of the night. 


I 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD. 


67 


She saw a horseman dash up to the gate, spring 
from his horse, and stride up .the broad walk 
toward the house. She wondered a little at it, 
owing to the lateness of the hour, as the sharp 
peal of the bell resounded through the house ; 
then she dismissed the matter from her thought. 

The stranger’s business with the judge lasted 
but a few moments, for she saw him hurry down 
the walk again, remount his steed and dash down 
the road with the speed of the wind. 

Scarcely a moment after the departure of the 
man Nadine received a summons from the judge, 
saying that, despite the lateness of the hour, he 
would like to see her for a little while in the 
library. 

Nadine found' him pacing the floor m a 
strangely disturbed manner. She little dreamed 
he had just received the intelligence that when 
the day broke two lives were to be pitted against 
each other— and all for love of his fair young 
daughter. 

Was it only Nadine’s fancy, as she paused a 


68 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAU. 


moment on the threshold, that she heard the 
judge mutter hoarsely : 

“It is well that 1 have made arrangements to 
send her away from Uplands. She cannot be got- 
ten away too soon ; she must not hear of this.” 

Nadine coughed profusely to make him aware 
of her presence, and advanced innocently into the 
room. 

“You sent for me, papa,” she said, seating her- 
self in her favorite place — the hassock beside his 
chair. 

The judge had expected a perfect deluge of 
tears and sobs when he had made know to her his 
decision of sending her to Glen Farm. And as 
the train passed through the village at an 
extremely early hour— daylight — she would have 
to be up very early to catch it. 

The pretty, dimpled face was bent demurely on 
the pink palms, and if he had not been so 
unusually excited he would have noticed the 
„ dancing light in the dark, mischievous eyes 
regarding him so roguishly. 

“ Are you sending me to Aunt Hestor’s to keep 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROjCd. 


69 


me out of Captain Osmond’s way, papa?” she 
asked, laughing. 

But the smile died away on her lips when she 
saw the storm of wrath those words evoked. 

“Would to Heaven you had ever kept out of 
his way ! It was an evil hour in which he first 
crossed your path, child!” he replied. “Peters 
will drive you over to the station, Nadine,” he 
said. “I — I — shall be very busy about that 
time.” 

To catch the train, Nadine was obliged to be up 
before dawn, and in the gray morning light she 
kissed her father, and bidding her Aunt Dorches- 
ter and Cousin Maud an affectionate farewell, 
took her place beside faithful old Peters in the 
carriage. 

And the old judge remembered Nadine’s face as 
he saw it then, for many a long day after. 

How fair the grounds of Upland looked, with 
its waving green lawn — the fountain and the beds 
of roses beyond, in the dewy, early light of the 
summer morning. 

They had been driving some distance, when 


70 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD. 


Nadine suddenly became aware that they were 
traversing the wrong road. 

“ Peters,” she cried, “ what is the matter with 
you ? This is not the road to the depot.” 

“ Yes, it am, Missie ; indeed, it am,” returned 
old Peters. “Marse tole me to drive aroun’ this 
way, to avoid passin’ thro’ de woods, which we’d 
be sure to reach jest ’bout sunrise.” 

“ Well, what of that? I should have enjoyed 
that road best. There is no prettier sight than 
the old trees, and the wild flowers growing about 
them. You have not gone so far but what you 
can turn at the fork of the road, and go that 
way.” 

“’Deed I can’t, Missie,” declared old Peters, 
earnestly. “As I said afore, ’twould be agin 
marse’s strict orders.” 

“ Well, you need not do the driving ; let me 
take the reins ; I will drive,” she declared, laugh- 
ingly, and in a trice she had seized the lines, and 
the carriage was whirled about. 

“Oh, Missie!” cried Peters, in most intense 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD. 


71 


alarm, “don’t go for to do that now. You 
mustn’t pass de Bryly Woods, ’deed you mustn’t.” 

“If it were night, and intensely dark, I should 
say you were a coward, Peters, but being full 
daylight and within twenty minutes of sunrise, 
I—” 

“That’s jest it, Missie,” cried old Peters, in a 
fright. “ It am almost time for de sun to rise ; 
we’d git thar jeft about that time, ’deed we would.” 

“ Don’t you like the sun to rise ?” asked 
Nadine, laughing gayly. “One would almost 
fancy you had an objection to it.” 

“I pray to de Lord it won't rise to-day ,” said 
Peters, so fervently that Nadine burst into a 
merry fit of uncontrollable laughter ; “but, Miss 
Naddy,” he went on, placing his hand firmly on 
the reins, “ you shan’t drive t’ro de Bryly 
Woods.” 

Nadine turned, and looked at him in amaze- 
ment ; what could such strange behavior mean ? 

“Why, Peters !” she exclaimed, irately, “you 
surprise me ! I have never known you to will- 
fully disobey an order before !” 


72 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD. 


“I am obeyin’ marse’s orders,” he declared, 
emphatically. “He says, ‘ Peters, take Miss 
Naddy round by de ribber road, an’ on no account 
must you go t’ro Bryly Woods, — you hear !’ An’ 
I answers, ‘Yes, Marse ;’ I un’stand why.” 

Unconsciously he had done that which was to 
be most dreaded — he had raised Nadine’s curiosity 
at once. 

“Is there any special reason why I should not 
go there, Peters ?” she asked, quickly, drawing 
the horse to a standstill. 

“ ’Deed there am, Miss Naddy,” he declared, so 
earnestly that Nadine could not help being amused 
and, with all, more mystified than ever. 

“If I knew what it was, I might not insist 
upon going, ” she said, demurely. 

“ I wouldn’t like to tole you, Miss Naddy,” he 
declared. 

Old Peters had been in the family for a score of 
years or more — long before Nadine was born ; 
never since she could remember had he behaved 
in so strange a manner. 


THE ISOLATED RIVER ROAD. 


73 


“ You will tell me what the great mystery is 
concerning the woods, Peters,” she coaxed. “If 
you refuse, I shall go and investigate it straight- 
way. If you persist in refusing to drive me there, 
or let me drive, I shall get out and walk there. 
One would almost imagine you were afraid of a 
band of robbers springing at you from behind the 
brushwood, or perhaps of coming across the dead 
body of some murdered man.” 

“ Miss Naddy,” said Peters, slowly, “I see you 
is bent on knowin’ the ’xact truth, an’ I mought 
as well tell you. We would find jest what 
you said — a dead body thar — fur thar is to be a 
duel thar at sunrise, an’ it am almost that time 
now.” 

“ A duel !” cried Nadine aghast. “ Oh, Peters, 
why don’t you go and prevent it ? You must if 
there is yet time. Do you know who the parties 
are ?” 

The answer nearly paralyzed Nadine. 

“ They are Marse Wetherell and Cap’n Osmond, 
Miss Naddy.” 


A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


74 


CHAPTER VII. 

AS THE SUN RISES A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 

When Nadine had kissed her father good-bye, 
the judge had turned away with a white, set face ; 
and the sound of the carriage wheels had scarcely 
died away ere he gave the bell-rope such a violent 
pull that it brought two of the servants in hot 
haste to the library where he was, to see what was 
the matter. 

“ Saddle Black Bess for me at once,” he com- 
manded, “ and have her brought round to the door 
within five minutes. I must reach Bryly Woods 
before sunrise. You hear?” 

One of the servants stepped forward. 

“I am sorry to tell you, sir, the horse is dis- 
abled, sir,” he said. “ I will tell you how it hap- 
pened : The — ” 

“ Never mind entering into details about that 
now,” said the judge. “ I will inquire minutely 
into it when I return. Saddle the other horse — 
Larus.” 


A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


75 


“The neiv one, sir?” asked the man, in dismay. 

“Of course,” retorted the master of Uplands, 
impatiently. “ There is no other one in the 
stable that I am aware of. Saddle Lams without 
delay.” 

“ I beg your pardon, sir, for interfering ; but I 
don’t think that horse is safe to ride. There’s a 
regular devil in his eye, and he has been pawing 
and rearing around his stall, enough to fairly 
scare the wits out of any one.” 

“ Saddle — Larus — and — bring — him — around — 
to— the — front— porch !” thundered the judge, in 
a voice that brooked no trifling ; and soon the 
animal stood before the door. 

“ It’s no use warning him,” said the footman 
to the butler, as he passed the latter in the ser- 
vant’s hall, and stopped a moment to gossip. “ If 
the judge comes back safe and sound it will be a 
wonder to me. It was quite as much as the 
groom’s life was worth to get him out of his stall. 
He loosened the iron post by the stepping-stone 
with one jerk. I said then — ” 

The sentence never was finished. Tlw^ was ar 


76 


A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


mighty cry from the front of the house, and every 
one rushed there pell-mell. They saw the fiery 
black horse disappearing riderless, down the road, 
and Judge Halsey, lying stark and motionless, 
face downward, in the long grass. 

Kind hands raised him, and when they saw his 
white, livid face, with the wound made by a 
sharp, jagged stone upon his temple, they looked 
at each other in alarm ; they realized, even before 
the doctor was summoned, that the old judge’s 
rashness would cost him his life. 

As they carried him across the hall, and up to 
his own chamber, they heard the shriek of the 
outgoing train. It was too late then to recall 
Nadine, his only child, they whispered, pityingly. 

Mrs. Dorchester and her daughter Maud were 
summoned at once, but their presence proved of 
little avail ; they could not aid him. 

After doing everything possible for the sufferer, 
the doctor took his leave, promising to return in 
an hour’s time ; another patient dangerously low, 
required his presence in the interim. 

« Mrs. Dorchester had left the room a few mo- 


A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


77 


ments to give orders to the servants, and Maud 
was left to watch beside the judge’s bedside alone. 

Suddenly, and for the first time since the acci- 
dent, the judge’s eyes opened and they met the 
gaze of the eyes looking down at him with a 
frightened stare. 

“ I remember,” he whispered, faintly, speaking 
with the utmost difficulty. “The— horse — threw 
— me. Has a doctor been sent for ?” 

“The doctor has come, and is gone, uncle,” 
replied Maud, “ but he is soon to return to you 
and stay until the end.” 

“ The end ! ” repeated the judge. “He thinks 
I am to die, then? Tell me the truth. It is 
best.” 

Maud nodded. She could not put the terrible 
truth in words. A spasm shot over his rugged 
face. 

,“ Dying, and Nadine— my little Nandy— not 
here ? ” he groaned. 

“Is there any message you would like me to 
give her, uncle?” she whispered. “Tell me is 
there ! ” 


78 


A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


“ Yes,” he said, faintly. “ I wrote a letter for 
Nadine— last night — intending to place it in her 
hands this morning ; but in the hurry of other 
news — I — I — forgot it. You will see it lying upper- 
most in my desk.” 

“If anything happens to you, I will see that 
Nadine gets the letter, uncle,” said Maud. 

“ Swear it !” he muttered, feebly. “ Then I 
can rest in my grave in peace.” 

t; I do,” replied the girl, slowly. 

He pressed her hand in fervent gratitude. 

“ Promise me you will do all in your power to 
see that my earnest wish is carried out.” 

“I do, uncle,” she replied. 

The words had barely left her lips ere the judge 
fell back on his pillow— dead. He carried those 
words with him into eternity. 

There are some natures that even the shadow 
of death does not appall. Such a nature was 
Maud Dorchester’s. What if it had anything to 
say about Gilbert Wetherell, this letter the judge 
had been so solicitous about ? 

It was but the wovk of a moment to possess 


A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


79 


herself of it, and hearing approaching footsteps, 
she slipped it into the pocket of her dress, and 
glided back to her position to her uncle’s bedside. 

It was the Doctor and Mrs. Dorchester. They 
found Maud with her face buried in her hands, 
evidently speechless with grief. One glance in 
the white, rigid face explained all. 

When Maud found herself in her own room, 
her first action was to draw the letter from her 
pocket. To her intense satisfaction she found it 
was not sealed. 

Without one thought or compunction as to the 
dastardly treachery of the action, she opened it, 
and familiarized herself with its contents without 
delay. 

It was dated, as the judge had said, the day 
previous, and ran as follows : 

u My dear Nadine : I shall hand you this letter 
as you are leaving me, and I wish you to ponder 
well over its contents. I have had— the early 
part of this week — a proposal for your hand in 
marriage, Nadine, and the suitor was Gilbert 


8,0 


A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


Wetherell. the man whom I should choose above 
all others to be your husband, my dear child. 
This day week he comes to me for his answer. I 
leave it with you as to what that answer will be. 
It is useless for me to repeat how much I esteem 
him. If I lay dying, Nadine, it would be my last 
solemn wish that you should marry him. Let 
these words sink deep into you heart, darling. It 
is best to tell you the whole truth — to keep noth- 
ing from you. I am hopelessly ruined by a specu- 
lation I was rash enough to go into. Had it not 
been for Gilbert Wetherell, who — through love of 
you — stepped up and aided me in my darkest 
hour, I should have been bankrupt. As it is, we 
owe everything to him ; he saved us. But not 
for this, even, would I have given my consent for 
him to woo and win my darling child — but for 
his noble worth, his manly integrity, excellent 
morals and principles. When he comes to you 
for his answer, Nadine, I hope — nay, I entreat, 
that it may be yes. You cannot help loving him 
in time, dear. I feel certain of that. 

“If you were ever to love and marry a man 




DEATH OF JUDGE HALSEY 














* 































































A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


81 


like Captain Osmond, for instance, I could not 
rest in my grave, Nadine, knowing it. Written 
words are more effectual ofttimes than spoken 
words — therefore I write this that you may 
peruse it at your leisure during your sojourn at 
Glen Farm. 

“ Your loving father, 

“ William Halsey.” 

Slowly, for the third time, Maud Dorchester 
read the letter through ; then a bitter laugh fell 
from her lips. 

“ ‘ If I lay dying, my last wish would be that 
you marry Gilbert Wetherell,’ ” she repeated. 
“ That is the import of this. Ah ! it is well that 
it fell into my hands. ^ Why, giving her this 
would be signing my own death warrant — giving 
the only man I have ever loved, or ever could 
love, another for a bride. 

“Ah! no — I must be Gilbert Wetherell’s wife. 
I must win him— I can never give him up. My 
great love will be sure to win love in return. No, 
Nadine shall never see this. I shall, on the con- 


82 


A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


trary, use every eiicleavor to bring about a speedy 
marriage between Captain Osmond and her. 
Then, and then only, would she be out of my 
path forever.” 

How seldom do men marry those whom first 
they love, and many a heart is caught in the 
rebound. 

“I love him 1” she cried, pacing up and down 
the luxurious boudoir, “and slfe shall not take 
him from me, even though he does not care for 
me.” 

“Ah,” she wailed out, sharply, “there is 
nothing in life so cruel as love that is fully given, 
and meets no return. The fire that burns, the 
water that drowns, the wind that makes bare and 
desolate, the lightning that strikes, are not so 
hard or so cruel. Of all the tortures that rack 
the human heart, none are so cruel as unrequited 
love.” 

At that moment a thrilling scene was taking 
place on the isolated road that led to Bryly 
Woods. 

For one awful moment after those words 


A LIFE DRIFTS OUT. 


83 


acquainting Nadine of the intended duel had been 
uttered, the girl sat still and motionless in the 
carriage, like one suddenly stricken into marble. 
Then the bitterest cry that ever fell from human 
lips rang out sharply over the waving trees and 
the nodding wild-flowers. 

Seizing the reins with one hand, she applied the 
whip to the frightened steed with the other, 
crying out : 

“ Oh, Heaven ! Peters, I am the cause of it ! 
I must prevent it at any cost P 

“ Too late, Missie !” exclaimed Peters, catching 
his breath as the horse fairly flew over the road, 
dragging the carriage and its occupants behind it 
“It is to take place at sunrise, and see! Heaben 
help us ! dar am de sun risin’ ober de eastern hill 
now.” 

Nadine took one glance, freighted with the 
horror of a lifetime. Ah, Heaven be merciful ! 
The edge of the dull, leaden sky was ablaze with 
blood -red clouds. Five minutes more, and the 
sun would rise above the disk, and flood the earth 


84 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


with its golden light ; and then one life or the 
other would be sacrificed. 

The wild prayer dies on her ashen lips. There 
is yet another mile to traverse. On and on they 
whirl ; and just as they outline Bryly Woods in 
the distance, the sun bursts forth, and floods the 
earth with a gleam of gold. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A CRUEL FALSEHOOD THAT CHANGES THE CURRENT 
OF THREE LIVES. 

“For life or for death ?” shrieks Nadine, as she 
plies the whip to the flying horse. “ Oh, 
Heaven ! that I may be in time !” 

That is the fateful moment of two lives. Cap- 
tain Osmond, sneering and vindictive, faces his 
handsome, pale rival with an exasperating smile 
on his mustached lips. 

“Are you ready, gentlemen ?” asks one of the 
gentlemen, stepping forward. 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


85 

Both nod. 

But ere the words of that fatal command could 
be uttered a wild, shrill scream cleaves the air, 
echoing and reaching through that isolated 
wooded dell. 

“ Nadine l” both men exclaim, involuntarily. 

In that instant the carriage, with its two occu- 
pants, whirls around the bend of the road and 
into sight. 

With one bound the girl springs from the vehi- 
cle, and rushes between the combatants. 

“ Oh, stop! stop J for the love of Heaven!” 
she cries, holding out one white arm to each. 

“ Nadine!” exclaims the captain, that sneering 
smile never leaving his face, “ be kind enough to 
let this little affair proceed uninterrupted. I want 
to show the world at large how I avenge an 
insult.” 

“ Nadine,” said Gilbert Wetherell, gently, “ I 
am sorry you have found this out, dear. I 
entreat that you will leave at once ; this is no 
place for you.” 

“ I shall never leave this spot until you have 


86 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


both promised me that this terrible duel shall not 
take place !” cried the girl, turning her lovely pale 
face from one to the other. 

Gilbert Wetherell dropped his weapon, and 
crossing over to his opponent, said, hastily, and 
in a whisper : 

“ Permit me to take Nadine home. We can 
declare this matter off for the present. You can 
wait for me here. I will return within the hour, 
and we can settle this.” 

“If there is any one who shall take her away 
from here, it is myself,” retorted the captain, 
roughly. “ Depend upon that.” 

Gilbert Wetherell saw plainly that he must 
accept any means to have Nadine taken away — 
any terms. It cost him one of the bitterest pangs 
of his life to quietly acquiesce, but he did so. 

Turning slowly to Nadine, he said, gently : 

“The duel is declared off. Captain Osmond 
will take you back to Uplands in your carriage.” 

“ What’s gwine ter become of me, Marse Weth- 
erell V 9 cried Peters. 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


87 


“ Hash f ’ whispered Gilbert. “ I may need you 
here with me, my good fellow.’’ 

To the captain, who passed him by, he said, in 
a low, guarded undertone : 

“ I shall wait here until you return.” 

It cut Gilbert to the heart to see how eagerly 
Nadine turned to the captain, nestling her little 
hand on his arm. 

“ I am so glad I came,” she said, in her pretty, 
girlish way. “ And, oh, I thank you both for 
giving up this duel more than words of mine could 
tell you. If anything had happened to either of 
you I should have felt like — well, like killing 
myself.” 

A look of frightened horror came over Gilbert 
Wetherell’s face. The dashing captain laughed 
as though the idea amused him vastly. 

What it cost Gilbert to see Nadine drive off 
with his rival only Heaven knew. 

For long hours Gilbert awaited the return of 
the captain, but, much to his amazement and sur- 
prise, he came not. At length his friends grew 
impatient, declaring if he failed to arrive within 


88 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


the next half hour the affair would be considered 
off. 

The stipulated time rolled slowly around. Still 
there was no sign of Captain Osmond. 

When the captain had reached the avenue of 
elms, which led to the entrance gate of Nadine’s 
home, he suddenly drew rein. 

“I dare go no further with you,” he said, 
handing her the ribbons. “Now remember you 
are to explain to your father that you missed the 
train, but on no account to tell him the reason 
why.” 

“You may be quite sure that I shall not,” she 
replied. “ I would not have him know that any- 
thing so horrible as a duel was about to take 
place — and on my account -—between you and Mr. 
Wetherell, for the whole world. He would be 
sure to forbid me to speak to either of you while 
I lived.” 

“ That, as far as Wetherell is concerned, would 
suit me perfectly,” he responded. “ As for me I 
should cease to exist if I were to lose you.” 

Nadine blushed, and turned away to hide her 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


89 


confusion and embarrassment- She would have 
hated him could she have seen the cruel, sneering 
smile that crept up to his lips as he noted her 
heightened color. 

“I have never had much of a memory for 
remembering names and places,” he went on. 
“ First of all, slip into the house unnoticed, and 
write down the name of this aunt to whom you 
are to be sent, and where she lives, and bring it 
to me. I shall be waiting at the old oak tree at 
the foot of the lawn. Then you can return to 
the house and to the judge. You will not be 
long?” he inquired. “ No,” she answered, flash- 
ing back a bright, happy smile at him as she 
hurried away. 

For an hour or more the captain in his turn 
waited, pacing up and down in the greatest of 
impatience beneath the old oak, but Nadine did 
not reappear. 

Was it only his fancy, or, shortly after she 
entered the house, did he hear her voice ring out 
in a sharp, agonizing cry ? 


90 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


‘*1 will wait at least fifteen minutes longer, 
and see what transpires,” he muttered, grimly. 

Nadine had reached the house, her heart all in 
a strange flutter, and was stealing carefully up to 
her room, when she was suddenly confronted on 
the first landing by her aunt, Mrs. Dorchester, 
and her cousin Maud. 

“ Nadine !” they both exclaimed, aghast. 

“Yes, it’s I,” she replied. “I missed that 
train, and here I am. I suppose papa will be 
very angry.” 

“It is just as well that you missed it, Nadine,” 
replied her aunt. “I was just going to telegraph 
you to return at once. I — I — have bad news for 
you.” 

For one instant the lovely face whitened ; then 
an eager smile broke over it. 

“ Is it about the duel, aunt?” she cried. “If 
it is, it did not take place. I prevented it. Peters 
told me all about it. I hurried on to Bryly 
Woods instead of the station. That’s how I hap- 
pened to miss the train. But I was just in time 
to prevent — ” 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


91 


“ What are you talking about ?” exclaimed 
Mrs. Dorchester. “ I know nothing of any duel. 
What I have to tell you is of too grave import- 
ance for me to stand here listening to such non- 
sense. I want you to prepare yourself for a great 
shock — a great sorrow, Nadine.” 

“Oh, aunt, is — is there anything the matter 
with papa?” gasped the girl. 

“I want you to brave the shock like a true 
Halsey should,” said her aunt, kindly. “Yes, it 
is about your father. He started out for an early 
ride on that new black horse he bought, but he 
did not get further than the gate. He was 
thrown.” 

“ Oh, aunt, is he hurt ? Tell me, is he badly 
hurt?” sobbed Nadine, piteously. 

“Yes, he was badly hurt,” answered Mrs. Dor- 
chester. 

“Oh, let me go to him at once !” she cried, 
attempting to break away from the hands that 
held her. “ Let me go to him ! My place is by 
his side.” 


9$ 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


“ You are too late, child,” said her aunt, husk- 
ily ; “your father is dead !” 

The wildest, most piteous cry that ever fell 
from human lips broke the horrible stillness ; 
and, throwing up her hands, she sank senseless 
on the floor at their feet. 

When she recovered consciousness, she found 
herself in her own room with her cousin Maud 
bending over her. 

“Is it all a horrible dream, Maudie ?” she asks 
in a terrified whisper, pushing back the black, 
tangled curls from her death -white face w r ith 
both hands, as though the weight of those soft 
curls was too much of a weight for her over- 
charged brain. 

“ It is true,” said Maud. “ He is dead.” 

“ Oh, Maudie,” sobbed the girl, wildly, as she 
fell hack on the pillow, “ who was with him at 
the last moment ? Did he call for me ? He was 
very stern, but he loved me so well. Did he leave 
me no last message, Maudie ?” 

“I was with him to the last,” replied her 
cousin. “ He left a message for you which was 


A CRUEL FALSEHOOD. 


93 


poured into my ears, for I was with him when 
he passed away, and I alone.” 

“ Tell me about it, Maudie, while I have the 
strength to listen,” she sobbed. “ Then I will go 
and kneel by his side, take his cold hand in mine, 
and whisper : ‘ What you wished me to do, I will 
surely do, father. Maudie has told me all.’ ” 

“Have you any idea what it is about?” asked 
Maud, breathlessly. 

“ Yes,” said Nadine, in a low voice. “ I think 
that, perhaps, it was a solemn request for me to — 
to give up Captain Osmond, and — and marry Gil- 
bert Wetherell some time, Maudie ; am I right F 

Maud Dorchester turned strangely red, then 
white. 

“No,” she said, huskily, “it was this the 
judge said : ‘ Tell Nadine I withdraw all' my 
objections to Captain Osmond, and that she has 
my consent to marry him, if she loves him best.’” 


94 


“did papa wish me to marry him?” 


CHAPTER IX. 

“did papa really wish me to marry him, 

MAUDIE ?” 

“ He said that , Maudie ?” whispered Nadine, in 
an awe-stricken whisper. “I thought he hated 
him.” 

It was strange that the falsehood did not burn 
the girl’s lips as she uttered the words ; for even 
as she spoke she could fancy she heard the old 
judge’s dying voice in her ears, crying out : 

“ Bid my child have nothing to do with Captain 
Osmond. If she should marry such a man it 
would trouble me so that I could not rest in my 
grave, though they buried me fathoms deep. You 
will tell her this, Maud ?” 

And the guilty girl remembered how faithfully 
her promise had been given. 

“I am going to papa, Maudie,” said Nadine, 
attempting to rise from her couch. 


“did papa wish me to marry him?’ 


95 


The effort proved too much for her ; she fell 
back upon her pillow again, white and faint. 

“You are not strong enough to bear it yet, 
Nadine,” said her cousin; “the shock has been 
too much for you. You must lie perfectly quiet 
for a little while.” 

Long days and weeks flew by, however, ere 
Nadine was able to leave her room again. 

The judge had long since been laid at rest. The 
absence of his familiar face was the only change 
at Uplands, for Mrs. Dorchester and Maud were 
still there, as were the old servants. 

Maud had been in constant attendance upon 
her cousin, and through her Nadine found out all 
that had transpired during her illness. 

The duel had taken place later on that same 
day, but through miraculous good fortune neither 
of the combatants had received so much as a 
scratch in two attempts. At that juncture the 
friends of both parties interfered, and they were 
separated. Both were still in the village. 

“ Mr. Wetherell never comes near Uplands 
now,” continued Maud. “In fact, when he sees 


96 


DID PAPA WISH ME TO MARRY HIM?” 


me he bows coolly and turns away. But the cap- 
tain has behaved handsomely. There is not a day 
that he does not call to learn how you are, and he 
sends you fruit and flowers and books, and no 
end of messages, begging me to let him know at 
once when the delirium of fever had passed away, 
and he could be permitted to see you.” 

“And Gilbert Wetherell never so much as 
inquired?” asked Nadine, considerably piqued. 

“No,” answ r ered Maud, in a constrained voice. 

“When one is ill she learns who her friends 
are,” said Nadine. 

“ Will you let me give you a word of advice?” 
asked her cousin. 

“ Why, of course ; as many as you like,” 
replied Nadine. 

“ It is this,” replied her cousin : “ When next 

you meet Mr. Wetherell, treat him coolly. It 
would be best to cut him altogether, before he 
has the opportunity to serve you in that way.” 

The color rushed to Nadine’ s face. 

“You think he really would do that?” she 
asked. 


“ DID PAPA WISH ME TO MARRY HIM ?” 


97 


" I am sure that is his intention,” Maud 
responded, quietly. 

“ Then I shall not give him the chance — that is 
all,” returned Nadine, spiritedly. 

An hour later, when Maud was walking in the 
garden, a young man opened the gate and 
advanced hurriedly up the paved walk, stopping 
short as he saw Maud. 

It was Gilbert Wetherell. 

He held out his hand with anxious eagerness. 

“ Is my answer to be always the same, — that I 
cannot see dear Nadine ?” he asked. 

Maud shook her head. 

“ I cannot persuade her to see you, Mr. Wether- 
ell,” she replied. “ I have told her over and over 
again of your constant devotion to her ; how you 
scarcely ate or slept until the crisis of her fever 
had passed, but she refuses to hear— can you not 
guess why ?” 

“ No,” he replied, slowly, “ I cannot.” 

“ Nadine’s words are these,” she said, slowly : 
“He would have killed the man I love, if he 


08 


“ DID PAPA WISH ME TO MARRY HIM ?” 


could, and I shall never forgive him for it while I 
live — never !” 

“The captain would have taken my life if he 
could,” he retorted. 

“You forget,” she said, gently, “that her sym- 
pathies are with the man she loves best” 

She saw the words strike him as lightning 
strikes a mighty oak. 

“ I have brought you a message from Nadine,” 
she went on, “but, believe me, to deliver it will 
be the hardest task I have ever undertaken in my 
life. The bearers of unwelcome messages often 
share the fate of the tidings they bring. Do not 
let me be so unfortunate, Mr. Wetherell.” 

“No,” he replied, kindly, “you can never be 
associated in my mind with anything unpleasant. 
I shall never forget how nobly you have inter- 
ceded with Nadine in my behalf, and never cease 
thanking you for trying to persuade her to see 
me.” 

“I felt sorry for you, Mr. Wetherell,” she said, 
softly, “ your devotion has been so ceaseless— you 
have been so hopeful and patient ; that makes 


“ DID PAPA WISH ME TO MARRY HIM V 99 

telling you that which I have met you here to tell 
you all the more painful ; but it must be gotten 
over with at last, and the sooner I have dis- 
charged the task, the better. This is Nadine’s 
message : 

“‘Tell Mr. Wetherell, the greatest favor he 
can do me in the future is to keep out of my 
way ; that I shall distinctly refuse to recognize 
him in any manner. Make him understand that 
perfectly, Maudie.’ ” 

Wetherell’s face flushed, then grew deadly 
pale. 

“ If this is her decision, I must bow to it with- 
out a murmur,” he said, “ though it is more bit- 
ter than death to me, I think I shall go aw r ay for 
a little while. I do not say that I may learn to 
forget her, for I shall never be able to do that ; 
but, amid new scenes life will be more endur- 
able.” 

Maud looked at him with frightened eyes. 

“ Going away !” she murmured, in a husky 
voice, adding, below her breath : “ Heaven help 


100 “ DID PAPA WISH ME TO MARRY HIM V* 


me ! I never dreamed of such a contingency as 
this r 

He held out his hand to her again. 

“Goodbye, Miss Dorchester,” he said, “may 
Heaven bless you.” 

The little hand he clasped was cold as ice, and 
fluttered like an imprisoned sparrow. 

“ Would you like me to — to — write you from 
time to time, and tell you how Nadine is ?” she 
said. “ I — I — feel sorry for you, Mr. Wetherell !” 

“ Would you be so kind as that?” he asked, 
gratefully. “Ah, you are indeed a true friend to 
me ; I should appreciate it more than the words 
imply. 

“At present, I have no idea where I shall go. 
When I become located I will let you know; 
then you will write to me there. Try and soften 
Nadine’s heart toward me, Miss Dorchester ; that 
you will succeed in doing this, will be the one 
hope of my life.” 

“ I will do my best,” she promised. 

No doubt no suspicion ever crossed his mind ; 
he was a gentleman, and a man of honor. False- 


101 


“ DID PAPA WISH ME TO MARRY HIM j” 

hood and treachery were unknown to him. He 
would as soon have imagined an angel from 
heaven treacherous as this - beautiful gill who 
seemed so much interested in his unfortunate 
love affair. 

Long after he had left her, Maud stood in the 
old sunshiny garden lost in deep thought, trying 
to picture to herself how dreary life would be for 
her in the village when Gilbert Wetherell had 
gone away ; but, after all, it was best so, for the 
present, at least, for ere he returned, she would 
have persuaded Nadine to marry Captain 
Osmond. 

No ono, save the old lawyer who had attended 
to Judge Halsey’s affairs for years past, knew of 
the deplorable state pf the estate at the time of 
his death. The principal and heaviest creditor 
was Gilbert Wetherell. 

When the old lawyer had come to talk the 
matter over, he had said : 

“ I wish no action taken in the matter what- 
ever. I wish everything to remain as it is now. 


102 “ DID PAPA WISH ME TO MAURY HIM ?” 

I am practically the master of Uplands, but 
Nadine need not know.” 

“ You are. one man in a thousand, sir,” replied 
the old lawyer, and he mentally ejaculated : 
“ Would to Heaven Miss Naddy could get such a 
noble young man for a husband. ” 

Nadine heard of Gilbert Wetherell’s departure 
from the village with considerable surprise. 

“ He did not even come to say good-bye to me, 
Maudie,” she said, with much chagrin. “ He is 
greatly changed. The whole world seems greatly 
changed since poor papa died,” she added, plain- 
tively. 

“ Captain Osmond had not changed, unless it 
be to be more attentive to you, and more in love 
with you than ever,” retorted Maud. 

“Maudie,” said Nadine, coming closer to her 
false cousin, and twining her arms around her 
neck, “ I want to ask you one question. Suppos- 
ing on the spur of the moment you betrothed 
yourself to some one, and as time wore on you 
felt you were not quite sure in your own heart 


“did papa wish me to marry him?” 103 

\ 

whether you really loved him or not, what would 
you do ?” 

“I should keep to my engagement,” replied 
Maud, quickly, asking eagerly: “ Are you cit- 
ing your own case ? Do you not care for hand- 
some, gallant Captain Osmond ?” 

“ Sometimes, while I am with him, I think I 
do ; then, again, I am quite sure I do not,” con- 
fessed Nadine. 

“ I should put all doubts to flight by marrying 
him at once,” urged Maud. 

“I could not— so soon after — after poor papa’s 
death,” sobbed Nadine. 

“ That you are all alone in the world, or will 
be when mamma and I leave Uplands next week, 
is all the more reason why you should,” returned 
Maud. “ I should be so glad to see the ceremony 
performed before we go. Then I wouldn’t feel so 
badly about leaving you. Why will you not let 
me persuade you ?” 

“ Sometimes I wonder whether papa really 
wished it,” said Nadine, thoughtfully. 


104 


“ YOU SHALL REMAIN HERE.” 

She wondered why her cousin started back 
with a cry of terror on her lips, her face blanch- 
ing to the hue of death. 


CHAPTER X. 

“you shall remain here until you do con- 
sent, THOUGH IT BE FOREVER.” 

Three days of ceaseless urging were beginning 
to tell upon Nadine. She was beginning to waver 
in her resolution as to whether she should marry 
the captain at once or wait a little. 

It was a source of secret wonderment to the 
captain the great interest Miss Dorchester took in 
his wooing. He was convinced that there was 
some deep motive, but what it was he could not 
fathom. 

The love affair of Nadine and the captain went 
on smoothly enough until a thrilling event hap- 
pened. It came about in this way : 

Nadine and the captain were walking one day 


YOU SHALL REMAIN HERE. 


105 


(( 




through one of the beautiful flowering vales that 
skirted the village, when suddenly the captain 
dropped her arm and started back with a mut- 
tered imprecation. 

Glancing into his face, she saw that it was 
ghastly with fear, and his eyes were fixed, as one 
fascinated, upon a man — a stranger — who had 
suddenly loomed up, and stood quite still in the 
path before them. 

“Let us pass,” said the captain, haughtily. 

“ Let you pass ! You! That is very good.” 

“ I warn you that I am not a man to be trifled 
with. Out of my path, I say !” 

“You area dangerous fellow, I admit. Still 
you will find your match in me. I know you. 
You are Captain Osmond. I have tracked you 
down at last. Give up quickly and save all 
trouble, and come with me.” 

“Oh! what does this mean?” cried Nadine, 
in terror, clinging closely to her companion’s arm. 
“ Who is this man ?” 

“Let me answer for myself, Miss,” replied the 
stranger. “Iam an officer of the law, and I 


106 “ YOU SHALL REMAIN HERE.” 

have had a long trail of it in tracking my man 
here to cover. Perhaps you are innocent of who 
he is, and perhaps you are not. If you are , let 
me inform you, as I have informed many of the 
others whom he has victimized. He is George 
Thorne, the noted New York gambler, alias Cap- 
tain Osmond, wanted in New York for almost 
every crime in the calendar.” 

“ Oh, is it true?” cried Nadine, piteously, as 
she turned to the captain. “ I cannot — I will not 
— believe it. This is some horrible mistake !” 

A laugh, horrible to hear, broke from the cap- 
tain’s lips. 

He took off his hat with a low, mocking bow 
to her. 

“ The game is up ; I may as well acknowledge 
the truth of it,” he said; “but,” turning to the 
officer, “you shall never take me alive! I 
swear it.” 

Then, suddenly, and without warning, before 
the girl’s horror-stricken eyes, took place a 
desperate struggle. 


“you shall remain HERE.” 107 

Nadine’s shrieks rang out on the sunlit air, but 
no one heard ; no one came to part them. 

Suddenly, by one powerful blow, the stranger 
was stretched motionless at Captain Osmond’s 
feet. 

“ Oh, you have killed him ! You have killed 
the man !” cried Nadine, with a wild cry. 

“ I hope so,” replied the captain, spurning him 
from him with the heel of his boot. “ Yes, he is 
dead ! Come, let us leave this place at once.” 

He approached her as he spoke, offering her his 
his arm. 

She shrank from his touch as though he had 
been a viper. 

“ Do not touch me 1” she cried, haughtily. 
“ From this hour you are nothing to me. Thank 
Heaven, I have found out what and who you are 
before it is too late ; and now you have added to 
your other crimes that of murder.” 

“ Self-preservation is the law of nature,” he 
responded, grimly. “The past is past; now to 
the future. No doubt you have concluded to 
break your engagement ; is it so ?” 


108 


“ YOU SHALL REMAIN HERE.” 


“ Could you doubt it?” she answered, with icy 
scorn. 

‘ 4 That may be your determination, but it does 
not follow that it shall be so,” he went on. “ You 
are the only witness to what has happened here 
and now I have made up my mind what course 
to pursue. You must marry me within the hour. 
A wife will not testify against her husband. 
Making you my wife without delay, and flying 
from here, taking you with me, is my only course 
of safety. I shall not .scruple to force you to come 
with me quietly.” 

Nadine drew up her slim figure to its fullest 
height. 

“ I am only a weak girl !” she cried, spiritedly. 
“ You, can strike me dead at your feet as you 
have this poor man, when you hear my answer. 
But hear it you shall. I will never marry you— 
never ! I would sooner die.” 

“ Desperate cases demand desperate measures !” 
he cried, his eyes blazing like glowing coals of 
fire. “Will you swear, then, on your knees, 
with your hand on that pulseless heart, that you 


“ YOU SHALL REMAIN HERE.” 109 

will never reveal how he came to his death ! 
Swear this, and I may be tempted to let you go.” 

“I will bind myself by no such oath,” returned 
Nadine. “ Heaven cries out that this poor 
stranger’s death should not go unavenged. If 
they find you, and ask me about it, I will tell the 
whole truth.” 

“You would see me swing for it, then?” ne 
cried, savagely. “But I shall give you no such 
opportunity, my dear. Forewarned as to jour 
intentions, I am forearmed.” 

His quick ear caught the sound of horses’ hoofs 
approaching, and he divined instantly that in all 
probability it was one of the dead man’s assist- 
ants. He had been evidently awaiting some one. 

Looking hastily about, he espied his horse and 
carriage tethered to a sapling down the road.' 

“I give you one last chance.” he cried. “Will 
you come quietly with me or not ?” 

“You cannot force me to go against my will,” 
she said. “Come nearer, and I shall cry out 
against you. Thank Heaven ! I hear some one 
approaching now.” 


110 


YOU SHALL REMAIN HERE.” 

A sneering, taunting laugh answered her, and 
in that instant the captain sprang forward, seized 
her in his arms, and wound the folds of the silk 
scarf she wore tightly about her mouth. 

“You will not do much crying out now, I 
fancy,” he said grimly; and catching her up in 
his arms he bore her quickly to the carriage, 
which he unfastened in a twinkling, and the next 
instant he was driving away with lightning-like 
speed toward the railway station. To his great 
satisfaction he found that Nadine had fallen back 
on the seat in a deep swoon. 

“She will be less trouble that way than any 
other,” he told himself, grimly. 

“ It was an unfortunate affair,” he soliloquized, 
“and I went a step too far. But it cannot be 
helped now. Curse the fool ! He would have 
it !” 

There was but one way. Nadine must become 
his wife. That was his only safety. She would 
hate him. He was sorry for that, for he had 
really liked her after his reckless fashion. 

Three hours later, when the train reached the 


YOU SHALL REMAIN HERE. 


Ill 




station at the cross roads, some distance down 
the river, a tall, handsome man boarded the car, 
bearing in his arms the inanimate form of a lovely 
young girl. 

Of course he attracted great attention, as he 
was sure to do, but it could not be avoided. 

“ Is the young lady ill, sir?” asked one of the 
passengers across the aisle. 

He touched his hat with ceremonious polite- 
ness. 

“ I thank you for your interest, sir,” he replied. 
4 ‘ My sister sustained a severe sprained ankle. It 
has just been attended to by a physician. It was 
necessarily painful. He thought best to adminis- 
ter a powerful narcotic. She is not over the 
effects of it yet. It was rather awkward, as we 
were obliged to take this train.” 

The old farmer (for such he was) turned impa- 
tiently to his wife. 

“ I told you it was all right, Maria,” he said. 
“ The girl is his sister. She met with some sort 
of an accident, and he’s been with her to the doc- 
tor’s. I knew a man wouldn’t board a train like 


112 


YOU SHALL REMAIN HERE. 


« 




this if there was anything amiss. You women 
folk are always suspicious, imagining people are 
being kidnapped, or abducted, or something of 
the sort.” 

“ We read about such things eenamost every 
day in the city papers, John,” declared the farm- 
er’s wife. 

“ Ten to one, half of what is printed isn’t true,” 
he maintained, ‘ £ leastways I have my doubts 
about it.” 

The train reached New York city at last. It 
was no easy matter to get his burden past the 
sturdy, suspicious gate-keeper and those in charge 
whom he encountered, but Captain Osmond suc- 
ceeded in doing this and making his way to the 
cab-stand. 

Here he found a man whom he had evidently 
employed before. He entered the coupe with 
Nadine, hurriedly. 

“ To the old house on the river road,” he said. 
VI will double your fare if you get me there 
within an hour.” 

He had spoken the truth in part when he had 


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YOU SHALL REMAIN HERE.' 


113 


« 

said a narcotic had been given. The jolting of 
the vehicle and the cool draughts of air from the 
open window revived Nadine. 

Opening her eyes at length, she stared in bewil- 
derment around her. 

‘‘Where am I?” she murmured. Then a 
piercing cry broke from her lips : “ Oh, I remem- 
ber all. You are taking me by force from my 
home and friends !” she shrieked. “Stop the 
carriage this instant, and allow me to return — ” 

“ You can return only on condition that you 
become my wife — or take a solemn vow that the 
tragedy which you witnessed shall never be 
revealed by you.” 

“ You had my answer before,” she replied. “ I 
will never consent to either.” 

At that moment the coach stopped before a 
lonely, isolated house. 

“ Then here you shall stay until you do consent 
to one or the other,” he replied, firmly though 
it be for long years— aye, though it b q— forever ” 


114 


nadine’s dismay. 


CHAPTER XI. 

“to nadine’s dismay she . found, when the 

WOMAN QUITTED THE ROOM, SHE LOCKED THE 
DOOR CAREFULLY AFTER HER.” 

“You shall live and die in this place unless you 
give me your promise,” said Captain Osmond, 
determinedly ; “ circumstances has left no other 
chance.” 

Nadine turned away, making no reply ; her 
heart was too heavy. 

He led her up the long path, which was thickly 
overgrown with tangled briars and weeds, to the 
door of the house, and knocked, impatiently. 

After a few moment’s delay it was cautiously 
opened ever so slightly, and a woman peered out. 

“ Open the door, Aunt Kate,” said the captain, 
impatiently ; “ it is I.” 

The woman gave a start and a cry of dismay 
upon seeing that he was not alone, and that his 
companion was a— woman. 


nadine’s dismay. 


115 


“ You need not feel uneasy, Aunt Kate ; it is 
all right,” he said, pushing the door open, and 
compelling Nadine to follow him into the wide 
hall, and to the meagerly furnished room beyond. 

But the girl’s nerves had been strained beyond 
their tension. On the threshold she threw up her 
hands and fell face downward to the floor in a 
dead faint. 

“ What on earth is the meaning of this?” 
exclaimed the woman, advancing and eyeing her 
nephew suspiciously as she did so. “Who is 
this girl, and why have you brought her here , of 
all places in the world.” 

The captain uttered a harsh laugh, and in a few 
brief words explained to her what Nadine had 
witnessed ; and upon her refusal to swear eternal 
silence, or marry him, he had been obliged to 
pursue the course he had taken for his own safety. 

u See that every care and attention is given 
her,” he said, gloomily, ‘ £ for I love the girl. 
You understand ? She must be carefully guarded ; 
she must not leave here until the conditions 
which insure my safety are complied with. I 


116 


nadine’s dismay. 


sometimes think she would never consent though 
she were incarcerated her e forever.” 

“Under the circumstances, I admit you have 
taken the only course left you,” she implied. 

Turning on his heel, the captain strode from 
the room, leaving his aunt to the task of reviving 
the unconscious girl. 

With all his faults — and she had seen him 
slowly drift from bad to worse — Kate Graham 
loved her handsome, reckless nephew. 

As the dead officer had said, Captain Osmond 
was steeped in every grade of crime, from the 
cleverest of forgeries to the most daring of rob- 
beries, which had been traced to him, but which 
could never he clearly proven. He spent his ill- 
gotten gold with so lavish a hand he was looked 
upon as almost a prince by his boon companions. 

He had bought this lonely, isolated place, and 
given it to his aunt : and many a time had found 
it a safe retreat when he was tracked down too 
closely. 

He knew he could have placed Nadine in no 
safer hands than Kate Graham’s. She would 


nadine’s dismay. 


117 


guard her for his sake most jealously, and urge 
her as well to accept his offer of marriage. 

Nadine was conveyed to a chamber above, and 
Debby, a little colored maid-of-all-work, was 
hastily summoned to take charge of her. 

With some hesitancy, Mrs. Graham commenced 
a plausible excuse as to the girl’s presence there, 
and why she must be prevented from leaving the 
house. 

“ Needn’t mind explaining it, ma’am,” said 
Debby. “ I know all ’bout it. I was standing in 
the hall all de time the cap’n was talkin’ to you, 
an’ heard all.” 

For one moment Kate Graham’s swarthy face 
turned pale. Ah well ! the captain’s secrets were 
safe with Debby. She would never betray him. 

It was long past. midnight when Nadine opened 
her eyes and found herself in a strange place, with 
a strange girl nodding in the arm-chair by her 
bedside. 

At the first movement of her charge Debby was 
wide awake at once. 

“ Am I mad, or dreaming some horrible dream ?” 


118 


nadine’s dismay. 


cried Nadine, starting up, and gazing with terror- 
stricken eyes about her. 

“You don’t look berry much like you was 
dreaming, Missie,” replied the girl, “with your 
eyes staring wide open like that.” 

^ Where am I?” cried Nadine, in an awful 
whisper. “ Tell me ! ” 

“ The lady who lives here am thecap’n’s aunt,” 
returned Debby. 

4 4 Please bring me my hat and cloak ! ” cried 
Nadine, angrily. 44 1 shall leave here at once.” 

44 How can you, Missie, when ebery door and 
window about the place am fastened ? You couldn’t 
get past the big iron gate no how.” 

44 It cannot be that I am to be forcibly detained 
here against my will, like — like a prisoner?” 
Nadine faltered. 44 If yon will help me to escape 
I will make it worth your while. Open the door 
for me, and you shall have this ring,” she said. 
44 It is very costly. It is a diamond.” 

44 A real diamond?” asked Debby holding her 
breath in awe. 


nadine 7 s dismay. 


119 


“ Yes ; and you shall have it if you will help me 
to get away from here ! ” cried Nadine, eagerly. 

Debby could not withstand the sparkling 
treasure. 

44 I will help you if you will promise that no 
harm shall come to de cap’n thro’ your gettin’ 
off,” she said. “I wouldn’t help you away for 
all de gold and de diamonds in de world if you’s 
intendin’ to go straight and tell what you saw 
marse do.” 

44 1 promise you that I will not,” answered 
Nadine, 4 4 though that is more of an admission 
than I would make to them if my life depended 
on it.” 

44 I’d have to think how I could get the keys, 
Missie. It can’t be done in a minute. It takes 
time.” 

44 Those at home who are watching and wait- 
ing for me will be distracted by my absence !” 
sobbed Nadine. “I must get away from here at 
once, and you must manage it for me, my good 
girl.” 

“ You’d have to get the keys, an’ they hang in 


120 


NADINE S DISMAY. 


the missus’s room, close by her bed. I wouldn’t 
dare steal in there to get ’em ; ’deed I wouldn’t.” 

“I will go,” said dauntless Nadine. “Show 
me the way. ” 

“ It’s right across the hall,” whispered the girl. 
“I s’pose it’s as well to tell youse de truth,” she 
added. “ I heard de cap’ll tell his aunt he might 
conclude to go far away from here soon — to 
England— with his own boat ; an’ if he went, he 
would never leave you behind.” 

“ You can see for yourself how needful it is to 
get away from here as quickly as I can,” said 
Nadine, huskily. 

But at the very outset she met with defeat. 
The door suddenly opened, and Mrs. Graham 
entered the room. 

“I will relieve you now, Debby,” she said. 
“ Go to your room.” 

There was nothing left for the girl’but to obey. 

Kate Graham frowned as she looked at Nadine’s 
eager, flushed face, bearing the trace of recent 
tears upon it. 

“ The idea of a man of the world like the cap- 


nadine’s dismay. 


121 


tain falling so desperately in ]ove with a chit of a 
thing like that — a regular bread and butter 
school-girl, ” she muttered, under her breath. 

Nadine raised her tearful eyes to the harsh, 
stern, uncompromising face. 

“ I might as well appeal to a marble statue for 
aid or sympathy,” she thought, hut, nevertheless, 
she determined to try. 

Kate Graham’s harsh laugh broke in upon her 
words ere the sentence w T as fairly finished. 

“ Help you to get away, and endanger the life 
of my own nephew ? Not if I know myself !” 
she retorted. “He would never be safe one 
moment if you were free. You shall never leave 
this place while I live and can prevent ity’ 

Nadine’s eyes flashed. She was too bitterly 
angry to reply. 

“I will waste no more words upon her,” she 
thought. “I can see plainly I must work by 
stratagem.” 

To her dismay she found, when the woman 
quitted the room, she locked the door carefully 
after her. 


122 


nadine's dismay. 


. All the long hours that intervened until day- 
break Nadine paced the floor, trying to look the 
situation fully in the face. 

Very early next morning Mrs. Graham made 
her appearance with a tray of tempting viands, 
but Nadine waved her back. 

“ You might as well spare yourself the trouble,” 
she said. “I cannot eat a mouthful in this 
house : it would choke me.” 

“If you want to starve yourself you may be 
certain I shall not object,” repeated the woman, 
grimly, continuing : “ Captain Osmond is down 
in the spare room ; will you see him ?” . 

“ No,” replied Nadine, “I will not. I have no 
wish to ever see him again.” 

This was the message the captain received. 

A little later the key turned in the lock, and 
the little colored maid came fairly flying into the 
room. 

“ Oh, missie, I’d awise you to see the cap’n. 
You don’t know how he is when you cross him.” 

Nadine’s lip curled. 

“ I have changed my mind,” she said. “ I will 


nadine’s dismay. 


123 


see him in order to tell him just what I think of 
this dastardly business, once for all. Lead the 
way, please.” 

The captain, who was pacing impatiently up 
and down the room, paused when he heard the 
quick footsteps. 

A moment later, Nadine, pale but wonderfully 
self-possessed, stood on the threshold. 

“ Nadine !” cried the captain, springing for- 
ward eagerly, and attempting to clasp one of the 
little cold hands. 

“ Do not so much as touch me !” she cried, re- 
coiling from him. “ I could not endure it.” 

His handsome face darkened. 

“ Those are not pleasant words to listen to, 
Nadine,” he said, “ especially as you are my be- 
trothed wife.” 

“ It was a mad, hasty betrothal !” she cried, 
“ I did not know my owm heart when I made that 
promise, but here and now I retract it.” 


m 


LOVE TO HATRED TURNED. 


CHAPTER XII. 

LOYE TO HATRED TURNED. 

“ That is your wish, no doubt,” replied Osmond, 
mockingly. “Now hear what I have to say : I 
refuse to release you from your promise.” 

The girl looked up in dismay into the bold, 
dark, handsome face, shrinking back from his 
outstretched arms. 

“ Are you— are you daring to still ask me to 
marry you ?” she gasped. 

“ I am indeed so brave,” he answered, angered 
at the loathing on her pretty dimpled face. “ I 
love you too well to lose you, Nadine.” 

“ Then take my answer,” she cried, stamping 
her foot in a very transport of wrath and indig- 
nation. “ I would not marry you if you were the 
last man in the world. I do not even respect you 
now, for I know you are no gentleman. I know 
you as you are.” 


LOVE 1 TO HATRED TURNED. 


125 


Her face flushed with anger, her eyes grew 
proud and cold, and her lips scornful. 

“ Let me hear no more of this. Your love in- 
sults me, 5 ' she added, in a high, clear voice. 

He rose from his chair and looked at her. To 
the last day of his life that scene never quite faded 
from his memory. The slim, girlish figure stand- 
ing in the doorway ; the lovely, scornful, dimpled 
face crowned in its waving masses of nut-brown 
curls ; the dark, starry, flashing eyes ; the crim- 
son, quivering lips, and clasped hands. 

“ Will you repeat those words ?” he asked, 
slowly. “ I do not know whether I have heard 
you aright, or not.” 

“ I repeat,” she said, indignantly, “ your love 
insults me. Your presumption in imagining I 
would give my hand to a criminal is surprising, to 
say the least.” 

Her w^ords had gone home. They had struck to 
the very core of his heart. She had stung his 
pride at last. 

He trembled. His face blanched, then flushed 
hotly. As he gazed at her, the love which had 


126 


LOVE TO HATRED TURNED. 


filled his heart, changed slowly to undying hate. 
His love died a violent death, and with it all that 
was best in the man’ s nature. 

“ Have you finished?” he asked, coolly. “ Be- 
cause if you have, I have something to say to you 
that may change your mind materially.” 

“No matter what you may say — what argu- 
ments you may use, you have my answer now 
and forever in these five little words : I — will — 
not — marry — you ! I hate you.” 

“ You hate me, do you ?” he cried, fiercely. “ I 
will make you rue the hour in which you ac- 
knowledged that to me ! I swear I will ! There is 
such a thing as a woman’s scorn turning a man 
into a fiend incarnate. While I live, the words 
you have uttered will burn like a smouldering fire 
down deep into my heart.” 

“ I w r ant you to remember them,” said Nadine, 
spiritedly. 

“ I have said that I loved you. I have told you 
that I worship you. I am a reckless man, I 
admit, and a desperate one. Yet when I looked 
into your pure face, I loved you, and made up my 


LOVE TO HATRED TURNED. 


127 


mind to win you, if I*had to peril my very soul to 
do ifc. You might have reformed me. Now, I 
take back my words. I do not love you. You 
have killed all that. The time will come when 
you will bitterly repent of what you have said.” 

“ I do not think so,” replied Nadine, coldly. 

A laugh fell from his lips that was terrible to 
hear — that made the blood turn to ice round her 
heart. 

“ You will think it unmanly of me to speak of 
revenge to a woman,” he said, ‘‘but you have 
been scornful to me — you hate me — so why should 
I spare you ? You will either live up to your 
promise of marrying me, or I shall take a terri- 
ble vengeance against you.” 

‘ ‘ I am in your power, but your threats do not 
intimidate me,” said Nadine. “It is only a cow- 
ard who threatens an unprotected girl.” 

Her proud indifference enraged him. He 
caught her hand and drew her to the window. 
The grip of his strong fingers were like bands of 
steel, cruelly painful — but Nadine would have 
died ere she would have uttered one cry of pain. 


128 


LOVE TO HATRED TURNED. 


“ Do you see the top of that building through 
the trees to the right ?” he asked, grimly. 

She bowed. 

44 It is a private asylum for the incurably 
insane,” he said. 44 Many a poor wretch who for 
long years has been lost to the world is incarcer- 
ated there— and there they will die. Now hear 
me, Nadine, and mark well my words. I will 
give you until to-night to make up your mind as 
to whether you will fulfill the conditions of your 
contract quietly, or not. If at the end of that 
time I find you still intractable, listen to the con- 
sequence : 

44 You shall be taken to that asylum, and there 
you shall remain until you recall me to set you 
free by marrying you and taking you away. You 
shall never be another man’s bride — never !” 

44 You have my answer now and for all time,” 
said Nadine. 44 If I had long years to think over 
it, it would still be the same — I will never marry 
you.” 

He released his clasp of her arm, and turning 


LOVE TO HATRED TURNED. 129 

like a young princess in her haughty dignity, she 
quitted the room. 

From that moment Captain Osmond was a 
changed man ; his love for Nadine had turned 
into hate. He had but one desire now, and it 
was for vengeance. He must humble her pride, 
and make her suffer, even as she had made him 
suffer. He would live for that object alone. 

There had never been any real love between 
Nadine and the dashing captain. He had capti- 
vated her girlish fancy, and because he had once 
saved her life, she had invested him with all the 
qualities of a hero, but when she found out his 
true character, her girlish admiration had turned 
to abhorrence. 

“ Poor papa was right at first,” she thought. 
“ Captain Osmond — George Thorne, or whatever 
he chooses to call himself — is no fit associate 
for me.” 

When she gained her own room, she gave her- 
self up to planning her escape from the place, ere 
the captain’s threat could be put into execution. 

It was almost dark when Kate Graham entered, 


130 


LOVE TO HATRED TURNED. 


bearing a tray, containing a dainty repast for the 
girl. 

Although Nadine had strenuously refused all 
food ever since she had been brought to the place, 
her craving appetite was growing so intense, she 
could not abstain from it much longer, she told 
herself ; and then the broiled chicken and the 
muffins did look so tempting. 

If the poor child had been more worldly-wise, 
she would have realized there was danger ahead, 
by the manner in which the woman was watching 
her, narrowly and with intentness, out of the 
corners of her eyes. 

“ You can eat, or let it alone ; please yourself,” 
she said, laconically, busying herself about the 
apartment. 

“ If I carry out my plan of making my escape 
to-night, I shall have need of all my strength,” 
she thought, “ and must do full justice to this 
repast ;” which she accordingly did. 

Captain Osmond and Kate Graham exchanged 
significant smiles, as she reappeared with the 
tray with its empty dishes. 


LOVE TO HATRED TURNED. 


131 


“ Everything works well,” she said. “ The 
plan can be carried out without difficulty, as you 
will see. Go upon your errand at once.” 

A moment later the captain had mounted his 
horse and had turned the animal’s head toward 
the red-brick building he had pointed out to 
Nadine over the tops of the trees. 

As for Nadine, for some time after the woman 
had left the room she paced the floor, awaiting 
the appearance of Debby, who had promised early 
that morning that she would come to her by dusk 
at latest, bringing the key of the big iron-gate 
with her. 

It was quite dusk now, and the girl had not, 
as yet, put in an appearance. 

“ She said that she would have a saddle-pony 
in the coppice for me,” mu rmured Nadine, “but 
I have forgotten where it was to be. I cannot 
remember. Ah me !” she murmured, pressing 
her little white hands to her brow— “how my 
head throbs, and my eyes burn ; my lips seem 
parched. The moon seems whirling about me 


Love to hatred turned. 


T3$ 

and the shadows to darken and deepen. Ah, 
Heaven ! what is the matter with me ?” 

In that moment it recurred to her how 
strangely bitter the coffee had tasted, and w 7 ith it 
came the frightened thought : 

“ Could it have contained any subtle potion ?” 

The very power of reasoning clearly seemed to 
be swiftly leaving her. A wild, eldritch laugh 
fell from her lips, and the sound of it startled her. 

She felt a strange, light, airy sensation creeping 
over her. Queer spectres seemed dancing around 
her, pointing at her with their long, bony fingers. 

“Where ami?” she pondered, slowly turning 
for the window. “ Why am I here ? I am try- 
ing hard to think, but my brain is on fire. I can- 
not remember why I am here.” 

Suddenly the key turned slowly in the lock, the 
door opened slowly and cautiously, with a sub- 
dued creak. Debby, the faithful little maid, 
stole into the room. 

“Are you here, Missie?” she whispered, 
eagerly. 

There was a strange burst of hilarious laughter, 


LOVE TO HATRED TURNED. 


133 


that froze the blood in her veins ^ a slim, dark 
figure flew past her with the swiftness of a swal- 
low, and through the open door down to the hall 
below, and out on to the porch. 

It was Nadine. Her hair was disheveled, and 
the lace at her throat torn and displaced. There 
was a strange pallor on her face ; even the ripe- 
ness had faded from her lips. 

She ran directly into the arms, of Captain 
Osmond, who was ascending the Stone steps, ac- 
companied by a stranger. 

“ Ah ! is this our patient ! ” asked the stranger, 
looking down into the lovely young face. 

“ I have little need to answer in the affirmative,” 
replied the captain, assuming an air of deep sad- 
ness with dramatic effect. “You can see for 
yourself.” 

“ Yes,” said the stranger, stepping forward, and 
adding, pityingly : “Poor child! ” 


■U. 


134 : 


A CRUEL REVENGE. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A CRUEL REVENGE. 

Captain Osmond had clasped Nadine’s hand 
tightly, and drew her unresistingly into the sit- 
ting-room, where Mrs. Graham awaited the trio. 

“ As I have explained to you fully, the girl is 
an orphan, living with my aunt here. I was be- 
trothed to her until this unfortunate malady was 
discovered. Whether it is curable or not, only 
time can prove. 

“ Remember,” he went on, “ these violent spells 
recur only at intervals. I am glad you have 
witnessed this one, otherwise you could hardly 
have imagined this so dangerous a case, and re- 
quiring constant watching. 

“She is quiet enough for whole days, even 
weeks at a time, though she is forever under the 
delusion that she has been taken by force from her 
home and detained here by me.” 

“ They all have some hobby or other,” declared 


A CRUEL REVENGE. 


135 


the doctor. “We never pay any attention to their 
rambling talk.” 

The certificate was duly executed by the doctor 
in the best of faith, and Nadine, half led, half 
carried by the captain, was led to a covered coach 
in waiting. 

It so happened that the potion which Mrs. 
Graham had administered to her charge was 
quite harmless in a certain way. It flew to the 
head in much the same manner as strong spiced 
wine ; its effect was noticeably like the vacant 
mannerism of the insane, for a short period ; 
then it left the imbiber in a strange, paralyzed 
state, conscious of all that was transpiring about 
him, yet unable to move or act — in a sort of 
trance, as it were. A valuable drug in the hands 
of a careful physician in many instances, but 
dangerous in the hands of the unscrupulous. 

The air, which blew up cold from the river, had 
had a magical effect upon Nadine. It had 
cleared her brain at once. But the effects of the 
potion held her powerless to speak or to move, 


136 


A CRUEL REVENGE. 


although she was painfully conscious of all that 
was said and done. 

What pen can portray the full and awful 
horror that seized Nadine as the full import of 
the captain’s words fell upon her ears ? 

She had believed his threats to be idle ones. It 
never occurred to her that he would dare carry 
out so dastardly a crime as to immure her , whom 
God had not berefit of reason in the four walls 
of a mad-house. 

Only Heaven knew how she strove to break 
the awful fetters that held her senses locked. 

The captain, who had been watching her nar- 
rowly, must have understood that she had 
reached this crisis, for a derisive smile of malig- 
nant triumph curved his mustached lips. 

Without power to break the cruel spell, Nadine 
felt herself being lifted into the coach. 

The captain took a seat beside her, the doctor 
opposite; the driver cracked his whip, and the 
mettlesome horses plunged down the road. 

To Nadine it seemed that the torture of that 
ride would never end ; that the very terror she 


A CRUEL REVENGE. 


137 


was enduring must surely craze her brain, indeed. 
How could God and the angels look down from 
the starlit sky, and witness this deed of horror 
without delivering her from the hands of this 
fiend incarnate. 

At last the driver drew rein. 

‘ ‘ Here we are,” said the doctor, springing from 
the vehicle, followed by Osmond ; and again 
Nadine was lifted out, and half led, half carried 
into the building. 

They had stopped a moment at the door as the 
doctor fumbled about for his latch-key ; and the 
bitterness of that awful moment was stamped 
upon Nadine’s memory to the day of her death. 

As she had crossed the portal, her agonized ga!ze 
had gone back to the beautiful world they were 
forcing her from, and she so young— so powerless 
to raise her voice to utter even so much as the 
faintest sound to protest against it. 

To the end of her life she remembered every 
detail of that awful moment. She remembered 
once to have read that when a man stood up to 
hear his sentence of death passed, it was not the 


138 


A CRUEL REVENGE. 


terrible words that impressed him so much as 
every little detail of the scene in court. So she 
found it herself now. The one great issue seemed 
to be forgotten, and the smaller details to press 
upon her mind. She saw how white and bright 
the moonlight fell upon the nodding trees and 
the sleeping flowers. She noted the red roses 
that clambered round the fountain’s brim, and 
how restlessly the night birds flew about from 
tree to tree. 

She remembered how her eyes had often over- 
flowed with tears of pity as she had read of pris- 
oners condemned for life to a solitary prison, who 
had been permitted to stand one moment on the 
Bridge of Sighs and look back at the world. How 
they had thrown out their hands with a heart- 
rending cry, and the next moment had passed 
beyond the portals. 

And she had met just such a fate ! Never more 
would she see the green earth, and the spring 
flowers, the white moonlight, and the twinkling 
stars. These four walls would entomb her until 
death released her. 


A CRUEL REVENGE. 


139 


The ponderous door swung back. 

“This way,” said the doctor; and Nadine was 
led, still powerless to make the slightest effort at 
resistance, into the reception-room off the main 
corridor. An attendant was summoned, who 
took charge of her. Then Heaven was kind to 
the poor girl ; merciful unconsciousness set in, 
she was oblivious to the awful sounds around her, 
of the clanking of chains, sobs, cries, and mum- 
blings of the poor unfortunates about her. 

Osmond, who had paid the usual fee in advance, 
turned on his heel and strode away. 

“That will bring you to terms, I fancy, my 
dear,” he said, grimly, turning shudderingly 
away from the great, staring, heavily barred win- 
dow's. “You will not be able to hold out a week. 
When I return you will be glad enough to go 
away with me.” 

On the very evening this cruel affair was trans- 
piring, Maud Dorchester was writing her first 
letter to Gilbert Wetherell. 

When he received it he glanced hurriedly over 
the general contents until he came to the subject 


140 


A CRUEL REVENGE. 


which had the most interest for him — Nadine. It 
read, in the postscript : 

“ I must not forget to tell you Nadine’s latest 
escapade. She has suddenly and unaccountably 
disappeared, probably to cause a sensation and 
worry us, but we do not think of attaching any 
importance to it, for of course she has gone up to 
her aunt’s at Glen Farm. When she is weary of 
rural surroundings she will as suddenly appear.” 

It happened that Gilbert Wetherell was a great 
favorite of this Aunt Hester’s, and he lost no time 
in writing her, at once, mentioning in the course 
of his letter he expected to be in that neighbor- 
hood shortly, and would be most happy to call. 
He begged her, in conclusion, not to let Nadine 
know he had written or expected to come there. 
If she did, Nadine would be sure to leave Glen 
Farm at once. He did not forget to give her a 
hint in regard to Osmond. 

The good woman was much mystified over this 
epistle. 

“It reads as though he imagined Nadine here” 
she thought, slipping the letter back into the 


A CRUEL REVENGE. 


141 


envelope, and placing it in her desk. “Perhaps 
she has told him she is coming. 

“In regard to this Captain Osmond he speaks 
about, he shall not be prowling around* here. I 
shall attend to that,” she thought, grimly.,; and 
she thought of the judge’s letter written so shortly 
before he died, wherein he had complained of this 
self-same captain, and Nadine’s infatuation for 
him, declaring he should put an end to their flir- 
tation, if he had to take his daughter off to Europe 
to do it, for the captain was a man rather to be 
feared. 

“Little Naddy is only a child,” she thought, 
“ she can be easily influenced to give him up, and 
think no more of him.” 

At the end of the week a second letter came 
from Gilbert Wetherell, announcing his intention 
of arriving at the farm-house by the end of the 
week at latest. 

But human calculations often fail. Gilbert 
Wetherell was delayed a week, and that was the 
turning-point of two lives. 


142 


A CRUEL REVENGE. 


Aunt Hester watched and waited for his com- 
ing in vain. 

At length she determined to write Nadine at 
Uplands, but ere she could put the thought into 
execution a strange event happened. 

She had been standing by the window, when 
suddenly a carriage, drawn by a pair of coal black 
horses, dashed up the road and drew rein by the 
gate. 

Springing from his box, the driver opened the 
door of the vehicle. 

“This is the place,” he said — “ Glen Farm.” 

“ Who can it be ?” thought Aunt Hester, all in 
a flutter, hurrying down the path. 

She gave one swift glance at the occupant of 
the coach ; then, with a mild cry stood white and 
motionless, like a statue carved in marble, at the 
terrible spectacle that met her horrified gaze. 


“if I FIND MY LO V Eli MARRIED.” 143 


CHAPTER XIV. 

“IF I SHOULD FIND MY LOVER, ONLY TO DIS- 
COVER HIM MARRIED TO ANOTHER, I SHOULD 
FALL DOWN ON MY FACE — DEAD.” 

The moment in which Nadine returned to con- 
sciousness, realizing where she was, and what had 
transpired, was the most intensely bitter of her 
young life. 

The effect of the potion she had taken had worn 
off ; she was herself again ; but oh ! what a cruel 
consciousness to return to. 

The small, narrow room in which she found 
herself was comfortless enough. Was she des- 
tined to pass the rest of her life there ? She was 
so young she might live long years yet. Oh, the 
torture !— the agony of the thought ! 

She flew to the door ; it was securely fastened. 
How she tore at the lock with her slim hands ! 
Useless — useless ; it would never yield. 

A sunbeam fell athwart the floor, mocking her 


Ui 


IF I FIND MY LOVER MARRIED. 


with its warm brightness. Oh, how beautiful 
the world was outside ! How dared they shut 
her out from it ! 

“ I could bear it better if I had air to breathe— 
space to move in ; these four walls seem to have 
shut up my soul,” she sobbed. 

There was a movement outside, a click at the 
door, which opened slowly, and the matron of the 
asylum entered, a clever, kindly woman, with 
firm eyes and firm lips. 

With a burst of sobs, Nadine flung herself on 
her knees before her, begging her to listen to her 
story, who she was, and how she was brought 
there by the cruelest of frauds ; that Heaven 
would never forgive them if they detained her 
there, she who was no more insane than the 
matron herself, and that it would kill her to be 
shut up in those narrow confines. 

“ They all talk that way, my poor girl !” re- 
turned the matron, pleasantly. “ None of them 
are insane ; oh, certainly not. As for being shut 
up in this room, I am come to tell you that you 
can have the freedom of the corridors, if you like. 










CAPTAIN OSMOND PLACES NADINE IN A LUNATIC ASTLUM. 









IF I FIND MY LOVER MARRIED/ 


145 


You fare better than many of the rest, for you 
are in one of the ‘ paid rooms.’ ” 

“ I must leave here ! Oh, I must!” cried Na- 
dine, frantically. 

The matron smiled. 

“You can go the length and breadth of the 
corridors,” she replied, quitting the room, stepping 
out to the main hall. 

Nadine followed her out to plead and expostulate 
with her, but the sights that met her gaze on all 
sides struck her dumb with terror, and a very 
pandemonium of sounds greeted her ears. 

She found herself in a long hallway, lighted 
from above, that seemed to run the entire length 
of the building. Narrow doors, opening into the 
patients rooms, were on either side of the hall, 
but the patients themselves were grouped here 
and there about the corridor, some lounging on 
benches, some pacing restlessly to and fro, others 
crouching at the iron gate at the further end 
which closed them in. 

Never had Nadine dreamed that the world held 
anything like this. She had read thrilling stories 


146 U IF I FIND MY LOVER MARRIED.” 

of the horrors of a mad- house. Now she realized 
that they had not been overdrawn. 

“ Come ; let us walk down the corridor,” said 
the matron, taking her by the arm ; but she 
recoiled with a low cry : 

“It would terrify me to pass these people,’’ 
gasped Nadine. “I will retire to my room at 
once, please. Better anywhere than here.” 

“You must walk in the corridor,” replied the 
matron, firmly. “It is one of the rules of the 
institution ;” and clasping Nadine’s unwilling 
hand, she drew her forward. 

Scores of eyes, in which there was no light of 
reason, were turned upon them : but the shrill 
laughter, the gibberish muttering, the groans 
and hisses, did not cease for a single instant. 

A bitter sob broke from Nadine’s lips ; her 
clasp on the matron’s arm tightened. 

“ Contact with such people — aye, even a night 
under the same roof with them — will make me as 
insane as they. Oh, madam ! I pray you — I 
plead with you — set me free !” 


“if I FIND MST LOVER MARRIED.” 147 

Iii her despair she noticed that the matron paid 
no attention whatever to her piteous appeal. 

Only Heaven knew the torture of the hour that 
followed to Nadine ; no pen could picture it ; for 
the matron had left her — left her alone with those 
pitifully horrible beings, whom she must behold 
from day to day until death set her free. 

Suddenly she became aware that she was being 
closely scrutinized by a woman standing near 
her. Nadine turned to fly from the spot in ter- 
ror, but the woman came quickly forward, 
caught her by the arm, and looked long and 
fixedly into the lovely, pale, girlish face. 

“ Do not be frightened,” she said. “ I will not 
harm you. I have been studying you fixedly, 
and I have come to the conclusion that, no matter 
under what circumstances you were placed here, 
you are no more insane than I am.” 

“ Indeed, I am not,” cried Nadine ; “but I soon 
should be if I were forced to remain here ; the 
very air stifles me.” 

“ One can get used to anything in this world, 5 ' 
returned the other. “ My sensations were quite 


148 “IF I FIND MY LOVER MARRIED.’’ 

the same as yours when I was brought here. I 
lived through it, and did not lose my reason, 
either, by contact with these poor unfortunates.” 

Nadine glanced fearfully up into the face before 
her. Could she believe — trust — this woman ? 

Perhaps the woman read the terror and doubt 
in her face. 

“ There are stranger romances, and more pitiful 
experiences all about us in everyday life than the 
fertile brain of any novelist could invent,” she 
said, sadly. “ Let me tell you my story ; it can 
be told briefly, and you will readily concur in this. 
Sit down beside me on this bench ; we can talk as 
freely here as though we were quite alone.” 

Curious, still in great fear, Nadine obeyed. 

“ My name is Marion Lee,” she said, slowly. 
“ Although my hair is heavily streaked with gray 
I am still young ; that should not always be sup- 
posed to be the accompaniment of age ; it is more 
often the mark of sorrowful experiences. 

“I see I have not gained your full confidence 
yet ; there is still a lurking fear in your eyes. 
Know this ; were I like these poor creatures about 


IF I FIND MY LOVER MARRIED/ 


149 


us, I could not hold a connected conversation with 
you such as we are holding now,” she said, with 
a sad smile, that won its way to Nadine’s heart at 
once. 

“I do believe you,” cried Nadine, impulsively. 
“/ have been placed here through dastardly 
fraud ; why may not that be the case with 
another ?” 

Marion Lee sighed, and pressed her hand. 

“ It is a case of many, and their story is never 
known to the world,” she said. “ There has 
never been a case more sad than mine, and it 
was all brought about by an unfortunate love 
affair. 

“ I was the daughter of a poor miller, but was 
as gay and happy as the day was long. I might 
have had a pleasant enough life of it, if my path 
had not been crossed one day by the man whom I 
was destined to love. 

u It came about in this way : I was sitting one 
day by the brookside, when suddenly I was 
startled by the sound of a deep musical voice 
almost beside me, saying, ‘ Can you direct me to 


150 


IF I FIND MY LOVER MARRIED. 


the village, young lady ? I have been so unfortu- 
nate as to lose my way.’ 

“ Turning I saw a young and handsome man, 
dressed in hunter’s garb, standing near me, watch- 
ing me intently. I directed him, but still he 
lingered a moment. 

“ ‘ I saw you come from the mill yonder a little 
while since,’ he said. ‘Are you the miller’s 
daughter?’ And I answered yes, caught up my 
hat, courtesied and ran away ; but I did not for- 
get the frank, blue, smiling eyes, and the hand- 
some, debonair face of their owner. 

“ Only a few days after, we met at a country 
ball and were introduced. 

“‘I remember you well,’ he said ; ‘you are the 
miller’s daughter.’ 

“ They were simple, commonplace words enough, 
but they made the blood leap through my veins 
like wine. I could scarcely refrain from crying 
out : ‘ Have you indeed, remembered me ! I — I— 
have thought of nothing but you ever since we 
first met.’ 

“We danced together, not once, but a dozen 


IF I FIND MY LOVER MARRIED. 


151 


u 


55 


times, and he saw me home. (I had come with 
some neighboring girls.) And when we parted at 
the gate he begged to be allowed to see me soon 
again. 

“You can fancy how it ended. With youth 
love is not a plant of slow growth. The touch of 
a hand, the glance of an eye, awakens the soul of 
love into life. Ere a fortnight passed we were 
desperately in love with each other, and we were 
betrothed. Then a double sorrow came to me. 
My parents died. 

“‘You shall come home to my mother until 
we can be married,’ my lover declared. And I 
went with him. ‘ It will be a great surprise to 
her,’ he said, laughingly. ‘I have kept our love 
affair a careful secret from her.’ 

“ ‘Why V I asked, with wondering eyes. 

“‘She has strange notions and fixed preju- 
dices,’ he answered, ‘ as well as^ wonderful plans. 
She has an heiress picked out f?r me to marry ; 
in fact, she has quite set her heart on it. But we 
will not talk of that, Marion.’ 

“ I can never forget the bitter anger of his lady 


152 


IF I FIND MY LOVER MARRIED.’’ 


mother as he led me into her presence, present- 
ing me to her as his promised bride. Words 
would fail to picture it. Even the son was dis- 
mayed at the torrent of wrath he had evoked. 

u ‘Come, Marion,’ he said ; ‘ we will leave her 
at once. This is no place for you, dear,’ And he 
led me, half fainting, from the room and the 
house. 

“My lover wished to be married at once, but I 
would not ; and so he placed me with his friends 
until the day we had formerly agreed upon 
should roll around. But these friends proved 
traitors. They were in constant communication 
with his mother. 

“ One day, when my lover was called from the 
city, the cruel plot to part us which his mother 
had carefully planned was put into execution. 

“ They told me my lover had cast me off for- 
ever, and when I grew hysterical with grief, they 
called in those to witness me who would bear 
evidence that this was insanity. 

“Despite my protestations, I was forcibly 
taken away. I was brought here. My prayers 


nadine’s thrilling- escape. 


153 


and pleadings were all in vain. Here I have been 
detained seven long and weary years, praying to 
Heaven day after day for deliverance. Of course 
.they told my lover I was false to him and ran 
away. If I should ever break the bonds that hold 
me here, and find my lover, only to discover him 
married to another, I should fall down on my 
face dead !” 


CHAPTER XV. 

NADINE’S thrilling escape. 

Nadine’s face flushed and paled as she listened. 
Surely it was a story of the foulest wrong that 
ever went unpunished. Her own experience had 
been almost as cruel. 

“Surely there must be some means of escape 
for you and me from this accursed place ?” she 
cried. 

Marion shook her head. 

“ That was the hope that kept me up for 
years,” she said; “it was my one thought by 


154 


nadine’s thrilling escape. 


day and by night. I gave up in despair at last, 
as you will do, I fear.” 

“Never!” cried Nadine. “I will watch my 
opportunity, and break these fearful bonds, 
sooner or later.” 

Ten days passed — days that Nadine, during all 
the long years of her after life, never forgot. If it 
had not been for the companionship of Marion 
Lee, she must have sunk under the terrible pres- 
sure of terror and excitement which accom- 
panied each waking hour. 

One evening, at the end of that time, Captain 
Osmond called, and Nadine was brought down 
to the reception-room to see him, though bitterly 
against her will. 

“ Well,” he said, when the door closed after the 
matron, “have you had enough of this? Are 
you willing to accede to my demands, Nadine ?” 

The scorn and withering contempt on the 
lovely young face fairly electrified him. He 
never knew before that she possessed so much 
spirit. 

“ Not now — or ever,” she declared, vehemently. 


nadine’s thrilling escape. 


155 


“ I despised you enough before, now no words 
can express how I abhor you.” 

“You are perfectly suited with your present 
quarters, then ?” he asked, with a low, mocking 
laugh. 

“Make this interview as short as you possibly 
can,” she said, scornfully. 

He bowed insolently. 

“Consider it at an end now,” he retorted, 
mockingly, as he touched a hand-bell. 

“Do you not find the young lady improved, 
sir ?” asked the matron, who had entered, 
anxiously, aside, in an undertone. 

The captain shook his head, gloomily. 

“No,” he said, sadly, “I regret to say I do 
not ” 

“ She is one of the most puzzling cases we have 
ever had here,” she declared. “ Why, if it were 
not for the doctor’s certificate, I should really 
have my doubts about her sanity — I should in- 
deed.” 

Captain Osmond gave her a quick startled look. 
Did she suspect anything ? Surely not. 


156 


nadine’s thrilling escape. 


The captain and the matron were so engrossed 
in conversation, for a single moment they had 
forgotten the presence of the girl, who had 
crossed the room, and was standing within the 
shadow of the curtains of the deep bay window, 
her back toward them. 

And, in that moment, a sudden thought came 
to Nadine, and in a flash she acted upon it. With 
a low, breathed prayer on her lips, she cautiously 
raised the sash of the long French window. 

Her heart almost stopped beating for an instant. 
She was sure they must hear the creaking, or 
that the cool, fresh breeze must warn them the 
window was open, but it did not. 

Like a bird, who sees the door of its cage open 
and freedom beyond, Nadine did not pause for an 
instant, but fairly flew through the window, her 
feet hardly touching the green sward as she sped 
oh in the darkness. 

Whither she was going she knew not; only 
that each moment she was fleeing further and 
further away from her mortal foe. 


nadine’s thrilling EseAEE. 


157 


At length she heard a great shout behind her, 
and the murmur of excited voices. 

“ Heaven protect me,” she muttered, faintly ; 
“they have discovered my flight.” 

Pressing her hands tightly over her fluttering 
heart, she pushed on ; but the sound of voices 
grew more and more distinct. 

Nadine took one hasty glance backward. Ah, 
dear Heaven ! there was quite a party of searchers 
out, and they all carried torches in their hands. 
They were certainly coming in her direction. It 
would be but a question of time ere they overtook 
her, and then — She dared not think what would 
happen then. 

“ I would rather face death than go back,” she 
told herself desperately. 

It is dark— intensely dark— and she stumbles 
pitifully over the rough road, making but little 
headway, and to her intense terror she realizes 
they are steadily gaining upon her. 

Ah, how sweet freedom is ! How delicious the 
wooing breeze that fans her cheeks, after those 
horrible days of incarceration. 


158 


nadine’s thrilling escape. 


At length the pursuers are so near, Nadine can 
distinguish their voices. Captain Osmond is at 
the head of them. 

“ She must have come this way,” she hears 
him say, “for the footprints we have discovered 
in the soft clay point this way. We lost them in 
the long, deep grass yonder. ” 

By the faint light of the torches she could see 
dimly about her. Ah, which way should she 
turn ? where should she go ? As she stood still a 
moment in dismay, trying to decide, the searchers 
quickened their pace.- 

If she darted forward, they must see her. She 
could not stand there. Ah, God, what should 
she do ? She tried to utter a prayer, but the 
words died away on her lips in a low gasp. Fate 
settled the momentous question for her. She 
took one step forward, stumbled, and fell head- 
long down among the long grass, where she lay 
for a moment stunned. 

And in that moment the searching party was 
abreast of her, scarcely five feet distant. 

Would the flowering bush that intervened 


NADINE S THRILLING ESCAPE. 


159 


between them screen her ? One glance behind it, 
and all would be lost. It would mean discovery, 
and they would drag her back to the asylum, from 
which Heaven had delivered her. 

“ Here the footprints seem to end,” said the 
captain. “ She must be somewhere about. Hark ! 
what was that ?” he cried, stopping short and 
listening intently. 

“ Only a night bird’s cry,” returned one of his 
companions, impatiently. 

“It sounded like a human voice !” cried Captain 
Osmond. 

They moved on. Surely, it was the guidance 
of fate. 

When their voices had died away in the dis- 
tance, Nadine crept from her place of concealment. 

“ Heaven has spared me!” she cried, in great 
emotion. “ Oh, God, I thank thee.” 

How far she traversed until day broke, she 
never knew. She was walking along an unfre- 
quented road, when suddenly the sound of wagon 
wheels fell upon her ears. 

A little later, a wagon, in which sat a young 


160 


nadine’s thrilling escape. 


farmer, loomed into sight. He saw the slight 
figure toiling along by the roadside, and stopped 
short. 

“ Would you like to ride?” he asked, hesita- 
tingly. “ My destination is New York city. I 
carry produce there to the market.” 

“ Thank you a thousand times,” said Nadine, 
gratefully. “ I would like to ride very much, 
indeed !” 

The young farmer drew rein, and Nadine 
climbed into the lumbering wagon. The young 
man was not communicative, it appeared ; they 
rode along for miles in perfect silence. 

“Are we almost there, sir?” asked Nadine, at 
length. 

“You can see the spires of the city if you look 
toward the right there,” he answered. “ To which 
part of New York are you going, Miss ?” he asked, 
at length. 

Before she could reply they were startled by the 
sound of the quick galloping of horses’ hoofs and 
carriage wheels on the road behind them. 

Nadine looked backward with a cry of alarm. 


nadine's thrilling escape. 


161 


One glance, and all the color faded from her face 
— even her lips grew pale as death. 

“Save me !” she gasped. “For the love of 
Heaven save me !” 

“Why, what is the matter, Miss?” he asked, 
in bewilderment, wondering if his companion had 
suddenly gone crazy. 

“My foe is hunting me down,” she cried, inco- 
herently. “ Save me from him — or kill me. It 
would be more merciful.” 

The farmer looked at the lovely white face, on 
whose every lineament the most abject terror was 
written, in the utmost bewilderment. 

“I do not understand,” he said, kindly. “Tell 
me your trouble, and if I can help you, rest as- 
sured I will.” 

She could only jeiterate that bitter cry : 

“ Spare me from my foes — or kill me /” 

A moment later, and the carriage, drawn by a 
foam flecked horse, drew up beside them, and the 
dark, mocking face of Captain Osmond peered 
into Nadine’s. 


162 


nadine’s thrilling escape. 


“I have found you, my darling !” he cried. 
“ Heaven be praised !” 

Nadine shrank 'from the captain with a shriek 
of abject terror. 

“ I appeal to you, sir,” cried Nadine, wildly, “ to 
save me from this man.” 

The young farmer looked from one to the other 
in the greatest surpidse. 

Suddenly the captain leaned forward and 
pressed his arm significantly, tapping his fore- 
head, and nodding toward Nadine. 

She saw the action, and cried out, indignantly : 

“Do not believe him What he is trying to 
imply is cruelly false.” 

“ One word will explain matters and save all 
this discussion,” said the captain. “This poor 
girl has just made her escape from the asylum 
which you passed far back on the road. In the 
darkness we lost sight of her. See, there are the 
attaches who have been searching in other direc- 
tions coming up. If you doubt my word, there 
they are to speak for themselves ; they will cor- 
roborate my story.” 


nadine’s thrilling escape. 


163 


“ It is as cruel as the story which forced me 
between the four walls of a mad-house 1” she 
cried. 

In an instant she saw her terrible mistake, but 
not before Captain Osmond said, triumphantly : 

“ You see, my dear sir, she admits being there. 
No more need be said on that subject.” 

Poor child ! Those thoughtless words had con- 
victed her in the eyes of the honest young 
farmer. 

“ Who would have thought it !” he said, in an 
undertone, as he turned to the captain. “ Of 
course you will take her back, sir, but I fear 
you w r ill have a hard task of it. She’s set her 
mind so desperately against going back, poor 
creature !” 

Captain Osmond’s reply fell upon deaf ears. 
Nadine had thrown up her hands with a piteous 
sob, and had fallen at his feet in a deep swoon. 


164 


HIS WIFE. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

HIS WIFE. 

It was but the work of a moment for Captain 
Osmond to lift the slight, inanimate form and 
convey her to his own carriage in waiting. 

“ You have rendered me a great service in car- 
ing for this young lady, who claimed your pro- 
tection so strangely,” he said, lifting his hat with 
a courteous bow as he turned away. 

A moment later the carriage and its occupants 
were lost to sight in the distance. 

“Well, well,” muttered the farmer, as he 
gathered up his reins and moved forward at a 
brisker pace, “now who would have thought 
that pretty young creature insane ? By the 
powers above, I’m astounded ; and yet I’ve 
always heard how clever such people are at 
deceivin’ those about ’em. I wonder who that 
chap is — whether he is a brother or— or — a 
lover.” 


HIS WIFE. 


165 


During all the clay that followed the young 
farmer thought of the strange incident of the 
morning. The girl’s lovely, terror-stricken face 
haunted him, he could not tell why ; and these 
words sounded in his ear: “Save me from my 
foes, or kill me !” 

“I will go out of my way to drive around by 
the asylum on my way home, and find out more 
about the girl,” he thought. 

It was almost dark when he reached there. He 
was received by the matron. His amazement 
knew no bounds upon hearing that the patient 
who had made her escape the previous evening 
had not as yet been traced ; that all the em- 
ployees, who had been sent out far and near, had 
returned with the intelligence that the girl could 
not be found. The young farmer sprang to his 
feet in the greatest excitement. 

“ There is something wrong ! — something terri- 
bly wrong !” he cried. “ That girl was found !” 
and in a few- words he related briefly just what 
had occurred. 

Although the matron was greatly shocked, she 


166 


HIS WIFE. 


did not betray her dismay by one word of com- 
ment. 

In relating it a little later to the doctor in 
charge, she added : 

“ I knew at once by the description given of 
the man, that he must be Captain Osmond. 
Now, where in the world do you suppose he has 
taken that girl ?” 

“ I am not getting paid to £ suppose ’ anything 
about other people’s business,” retorted the 
doctor, crossly. “If the gentleman did not wish 
to return her to this place, it is his own affair.” 

“ To be sure, sir,” replied the matron ; but she 
never ceased wondering about the matter. 

As for Captain Osmond, his first intention had 
been to take Nadine immediately back to the 
asylum. Then a sudden thought came to him. 
He would make one more effort to induce her to 
look with favor upon his suit. 

While he was pondering over the matter, 
Nadine opened her eyes. One glance into her 
companion’s face, then memory came back with 
a rush. She would have sprung screaming from 


HIS WIFE. 


167 


the vehicle, had not the captain put out one hand 
and held her firmly. 

“ Do not act like an unreasonable, refractory 
child, Nadine,” he said, impatiently. “ Sit quiet ; 
I want to talk to you, my dear.” 

“ I will not talk !” sobbed Nadine. “Unhand 
me ! Let me go free.” 

“We have discussed that point so often, pardon 
me if I refuse to waste further words upon it, ” 
he said. “I am willing to give you one last 
chance, Nadine. Either return, or be my wife.” 

“ The horrors of one equally balance the horrors 
of the other,” said the girl, bitterly. 

“ I will give you up to the time we reach the 
cross-roads to make up your mind,” he said, 
quietly. “ Think it over well.” 

And she did think it over. 

At length he drew rein. 

4 ‘ Through the trees yonder you see the asylum ; 
take your future into your own hands and 
decide.” 

“ I cannot go back there,” she wailed. “ Oh ! 


168 


HIS WIFE. 


Captain Osmond, spare me ! The very thought 
of it drives me to madness !” 

“ Then you will become my wife !” he inter- 
rogated. 

“Anything rather than go back to that living 
death !” she sobbed desperately. “ But may 
Heaven forgive you for forcing me to make this 
choice, for I never shall !” 

Captain Osmond turned the carriage about at 
once. 

“I intend to take you at your word without 
delay, lest you should change your mind,” he 
said. “ Women are proverbially fickle.” 

Nadine shrank away from him, covering her 
face with her hands. 

An hour’s hard driving brought them to an iso- 
lated church in a deep wood. The rude edifice 
was fast falling to decay, yet, despite this, the 
good people for miles around worshiped there, 
and close beside it stood the pastor’s cottage. 

“This way,” said Captain Osmond, leading the 
way, his brow darkening with anger when he 
saw how white and terrified Nadine looked. 


HIS WIFE. 


169 


“ Mind, let there be no scene here. Remember, I 
warn you. You understand this is not a com- 
pulsory affair.” 

“It is” retorted Nadine, bitterly. 

“You consent of your own free will,” he 
declared. 

“ Because you have brought about an array of 
circumstances which I cannot control,” she 
insisted. 

In after years, it seemed to Nadine like a hor- 
rible, ghastly dream — how she followed Captain 
Osmond into the dim old church, and up to the 
altar. 

As in a confused dream, she heard the minis- 
ter’s words. They sounded afar off and indis- 
tinct. 

Osmond made his responses in a loud, clear 
voice ; Nadine’s was pitifully weak and trem- 
ulous. 

At last, the minister had reached the most 
impressive words in the marriage service, and he 
uttered the words slowly : 

“If any one knows aught why these two 


170 


HIS WIFE. 


should not be joined together in holy wedlock, 
let him speak now, or forever after hold his 
peace.” 

A terrible silence reigned. Nadine looked fear- 
fully about her. No voice broke the terrible still- 
ness. No one cried out against this marriage. 

The minister took up his book again, and went 
on slowly : 

“ Then I pronounce you two man and wife. 
What God hath joined together let no man put 
asunder.” 

They were solemn words. They sank like the 
sharp blade of a knife into Nadine’s heart. 

It was done. All in a moment Nadine was 
Captain Osmond’s wife. Only Heaven could 
have foretold the bitter woe that was to arise 
from it. If Nadine could have lifted the vail of 
the dark future and have looked beyond, the girl’s 
heart would have been broken. She would have 
fallen dead at her bridegroom’s feet then and 
there. 

They were out in the sunlight again, driving 
along the country road. The sun shone on 


HIS WIFE. 


171 


the white stretch of road, on the green grass, 
with its springing daisies thick as evening stars, 
on the crimson-hearted wild roses ; the birds, 
flitting from bough to bough, were singing their 
hearts out in the green trees ; but Nadine neither 
saw nor heard. 

Captain Osmond’s voice aroused her at length. 

4 ‘ I propose to take the boat at the landing for 
New York city,” he said. 

She did not reply. 

“ Will that arrangement suit you?” he asked, 
impatiently. 

“It is a matter of perfect indifference to me 
what you do,” she answered, scornfully. 

He looked at her darkly, and wondered if ever a 
man in this world was so disliked by the girl he 
had just wedded. But one thought was upper- 
most in his mind— she was his wife now ; she 
could never testify against him. In utter silence 
they boarded the steamer, and Nadine followed 
the captain out on deck, where he found her a 
seat, but she declined to take it. 

“If you intend being as unsociable at this, I 


172 


HIS WIFE. 


will go to the other end of the deck and find 
solace in a companionable cigar,” he said, grimly. 

“You cannot go too far away,” retorted 
Nadine. “ I only wish you would go to the other 
end of the earth.” 

He turned away, and Nadine never forgot the 
mocking smile on his lips. How long she stood 
there on the deck watching the waves she never 
knew. The sun dipped down the western sky, 
dusk crept up, and night came on, “drawing her 
sable curtains close, and pinned them with a star.” 
A young crescent moon, like a jewel, hung amid 
the white-capped clouds, lighting up the waves 
with a thousand arrowy sparkles. 

Suddenly there was a startled cry, followed by 
shrieks and groans of horror. It was all over in 
an instant. No one ever knew exactly how it 
happened — whether it was through the careless- 
ness of the engineer or not — one of the huge boilers 
burst with a deafening roar, and a mighty volume 
of steam belched forth. As it cleared away the 
moon shone on a terrible picture — the boat had 
been blown to atoms, and over three hundred souls 


“yes or no?” 


173 


were battling for life in the waves, within* sight of 
the New York harbor. 

All in an instant, as Osmond had turned away, 
Nadine felt herself whirling through space ; then 
she struck the water — too quick for a prayer, too 
quick for a moan — and the dark waters closed over 
the dark curly head, and rolled on as before. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

te IS YOUR ANSWER 4 YES ’ OR 4 NO,’ MY DARLING ? ” 
HE ASKED, EAGERLY. 

In a short space of time, but which seemed an 
eternity to those struggling in the mad waters, 
other steamers were on the spot, gathering up the 
victims of the terrible disaster. 

Among the saved was Nadine. 

It was long hours before the woman who was 
attending her succeeded in bringing life back to 
the inanimate form. 

The steamer which had picked them up had 


m 


YES OK NO?” 


reached port, but the sufferers from the awful 
shock had not been removed as yet from the 
cabins, where they were receiving attention from 
the physicians who had been summoned. 

Extras had been gotten out at once, and the 
whole city was electrified over the list of the lost, 
wounded and dying. 

The nurse who had taken Nadine in charge was 
looking over the paper, when a stifled cry from 
the white lips startled her. 

“Where am I?” she demanded, in bewilder- 
ment ; “ and who are you ?” 

Before the woman could reply, Nadine covered 
her white face with her hands, shaking like a leaf. 

“Oh! I remember,” she gasped. “I was 
standing alone on the deck of the steamer in 
the moonlight ; there was a terrible explosion, 
and I felt myself being hurled through space, I 
struck the water, and I went down— down. 
Who saved me V 

“ You were picked up by the crew from 
another steamer.” 

“And he— my— my— husband,” said Nadine, 


YES OR NO ?” 


175 


uttering the word with great effort — “ was he 
saved ?” 

“I will read over the list, and you can tell 
then,” replied the nurse, setting herself back in 
her chair, and running her eye half down the 
column, she began : 

“ Among those standing within range of the 
ill fated boiler when it exploded, and who were 
killed outright, were Captain Osmond — ” 

A cry of terror arrested the words on her lips ; 
her patient had fallen back on the pillow in a 
death-like swoon. 

“ Poor creature !” sighed the woman, pityingly, 
brushing back the dark, clinging curls from the 
lovely, pale face. “It must have been Tier hus- 
band who headed the list.” 

Owing to Nadine’s strength and youthful vigor, 
she soon recovered from the terrible shock and 
* exposure. 

“You will be able to resume your journey by 
to-morrow morning, I hope,” said the nurse. 

“Where should she go?” Long and earnest she 
pondered over the question. Uplands would be 


176 


YES OR NO V' 


desolate enough for her, now that her father was 
no more. 

Suddenly her raind reverted to her Aunt Hester 
and Glen Farm. 

“I will go there for a little while,” she said. 

Ci It will be a quiet, welcome refuge for my tem- 
pest-tossed soul.” 

Nadine lost no time in putting this plan into 
execution. 

It was a distance of some ten miles from the 
station to Hester Burn’s place, and Nadine was 
forced to hire a carriage, although her funds were 
extremely low. 

It was quite noon ere the carriage turned into 
the lane that led to the red-painted farm-house, 
and Nadine observed her aunt, who was attracted 
by the sound of carriage wheels, coming down to 
the gate to welcome her visitor. 

When Hester Burns caught sight of the pale * 
face, she started back speechless with fright. 
Was this merry, laughing, will-o’-the-wisp, 
Nadine, or was she dreaming ? 



THE EXPLOSION 








“ YES OR NO ?” 


m 


Nadine sprang from the vehicle and into her 
arms with a great, sobbing cry. 

Mrs. Burns drew her gently into the farm house. 
Ah, no wonder the poor lamb looked so pale and 
thin — a ghost of her former self. Had she not 
lost her dear father ? — a sufficient cause, indeed, 
for it. 

‘ ‘ I expected you long ago, my dear,” she said, 
‘‘for I received your cousin Maud’s letter, saying 
that you had started. And when you did not 
come, I knew there was some mistake— that she 
must mean you intended starting soon.” 

During the week that followed in this quiet 
retreat, Nadine had time to reflect. So Captain 
Osmond was really dead ! How strange it seemed 
that Heaven should punish him so swiftly for 
what he had done. Wedded and widowed within 
the hour ! Was there ever so strange a fate? 

A score of times she was on the point of telling 
her aunt all, and each time an indescribable some- 
thing held her back. 

Suddenly, an inspiring thought came to her. 
Why need she ever divulge the terrible past to any 


178 


“yes or no ? 5 


living mortal? Now that Captain Osmond was 
dead, she could carry the secret down to the grave 
with her untold. 

“ I must not feel glad at the taking off of any 
human being,” she would tell herself over and 
over again. “ But — Heaven forgive me — I am 
sure that it must have been the will of God — 
delivering me out of the hands of my enemy.” 

At the end of a week, surrounded by the old 
familiar scenes, Nadine was growing something 
like her own bright self again. 

One morning, Mrs: Burns came out to the 8 
orchard where Nadine was sitting, holding an 
open letter in her hand. 

“ I have a little surprise for you Naddy,” she 
said. “I have a letter here from Mr. Wetherell. 
Business brings him in this vicinity, and he will 
call here. We may expect him to-day . Put on a 
fresh ribbon, my dear, and place a rose or two in 
your belt. I should like to have you look partic- 
ularly nice before him. He is a fine young man, 
Naddy.” 


“yes or no?” 


179 


Tears filled Nadine’s fine eyes. Ah, who knew 
that better than she ? 

He arrived before noon, and it seemed to Nadine 
that he brought all the sunshine of the world 
with him 

He held out his hands to her eagerly, longing 
to kiss the girl’s white face and pale lips. 

“ You do not know how pleased I am to see 
you, darling !” he whispered. “ Tell me, are you 
glad to see me ?” 

She drew her hands away from his clasp with 
a startled cry, murmuring incoherently : 

“You must not talk to me so, Gilbert. It is 
wrong for me to listen.” 

She tried in that supreme moment to muster 
up courage to say to him : “I am married ; but my 
husband died a tragic death upon our wedding- 
day but the words died away on her bps un- 
uttered. 

Gilbert Wetherell looked down at the black 
dress she wore, which reminded him forcibly of 
the judge’s death, and forebore pressing his suit 
then . 


180 


YES OR NO?” 


He had written Mrs. Burns that he would not 
stop at Glen Farm more than a day or so, but, 
once there, and in Nadine’s society again, he could 
not tear himself away, and the two days leng- 
thened into a fortnight ; still he was reluctant to 
take his leave, much to Mrs. Burns’s amusement. 

He had noticed, in puzzled wonder, the great 
change in Nadine. Where had all her charming 
willful spirits gone to ? Could the judge’s death 
have changed her so completely, so utterly ? or 
had she sent Osmond away in accordance with 
some expressed wish of her fathers, and was grow- 
ing pale and thin, grieving over his loss ? The very 
thought was torture to him.* 

At this juncture, the old judge’s lawyer wrote 
Nadine just how matters stood. Uplands was her 
home, only on the forbearance of a very lenient 
creditor, withholding his name, however. 

On the day that Nadine received this intelli- 
gence, Gilbert Wetherell found her in tears, in the 
rose garden. 

“Have you bad news, Nadine?” he asked, 
anxiously. 


“ YES OR NO V 9 


181 


For answer, she placed the letter in his hand. 

He frowned as he read it. How stupid of the « 
old lawyer to mention this, when he had given 
particular orders that she should not be informed 
of it, as he had no desire to press the claim 

“My home is broken up,” she said, piteously. 
“ I can never go back there again.” 

Gilbert forgot his promise to himself that he 
must not speak to her of love so soon after her 
father’s demise. 

“Nadine,” he cried, eagerly extending his arms 
to her, “come to me; let me protect you from 
the world’s • cruel storms ! Oh, Nadine, my little 
love, come to my heart ; marry me at once, and 
you shall never know another hour of hardship. 

I am wealthy — you shall have it all ; my heart, 
my love, and my life are yours. Do not say no, 
dear ! I am sure if the dear old judge could 
speak from the grave, he would bid you marry 
me, if you could love me ; and I think you have 
learned to care for me during the fortnight I have 
been here, more than you ever did in your life 
before.” v 


182 


“ YES OR NO ?” 


He could not understand why she shrank from 
him in such abject terror, pleading, pantingly, 
with him to say no more, for it was a sin to listen 
to him now. 

“How long must I wait, then, until I am per- 
mitted to speak the words that are burning their 
way from my heart to my lips?” he asked des- 
pairingly. 

“Not for — a — a — year,” she faltered, faintly. 

“A year!” exclaimed Gilbert Wether ell, in 
consternation. “ Surely, Nadine, you do not 
mean that ? I will not wait a year. I have 
waited too long already.” 

“ Stop ! stop ! ” she gasped. “I will not listen 
to you. It is a sin now. Oh, I know why— I 
know why !” 

Again he thought it was on account of the 
recent death of Judge Halsey, or, perhaps, he had 
expressed a wish to that effect ere he died. 

“ Your wish shall be my law, Nadine,” he said, 
tenderly, “but a year seems an eternity.” 

The disconsolate lover made a confidante of 
Mrs. Burns! 


maud Dorchester’s jealousy. 


183 


“ Do not be disheartened,” she said ; “ between 
us, we will try and persuade our pretty Nadine 
that a month longer would be a reasonable time, 
under the circumstances, for an impatient young 
lover to claim the answer to his suit. I am quite 
sure her answer will be ‘ yes,’ my dear boy.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

MAUD DORCHESTER’S JEALOUSY. 

When Nadine returned to Uplands, Mrs. Burns 
returned with her, a state of affairs which Mrs. 
Dorchester and her daughter Maud did not relish 
by any means. 

“There is no house big enough for two fami- 
lies,” Mrs. Dorchester would say to Maud when 
they found themselves alone. “ It is only a ques- 
tion of time as to how long we shall be able to 
stay here. If Nadine had come back alone to 
Uplands we might, to use a common phrase, 

‘ have cheeked it through ” and staid right on here ; 
but Mrs. Burns is a woman not to be trifled with. 


184 maud dorchestek’s jealousy. 

She will soon call us to account by inquiring what 
we intend to do for our support ; but we will stay 
here until we are forced to leave,” she added, 
grimly ; in which conclusion Maud readily con- 
curred. 

As they had surmised, Mrs. Burns had spoken 
to Nadine long since about the matter. 

“I cannot turn them away, and they won’t go 
without I do,” she replied. 

“ They are human vampires !” declared Mrs. 
Burns energetically. “ Their pertinacity in stay- 
ing here reminds me of a work I once read many 
years ago which was translated from the German, 
of a young girl who was patiently toiling for her 
bread, the only support of a widowed mother, an 
aged grandfather, a cousin and an aunt. A 
selfish sister, noting this, brought on her two 
children also to the poor toiler to provide for, and 
the three of ’em sat down in idleness upon her 
earnings for many years, never bringing in one 
dollar. Those children were brought up in lux- 
urious idleness, handsomely clothed and educa- 
ted. But, ah, it was at the expense of the toiling 


maud dokchester’s jealousy. 


185 


aunt’s life. Take care, Nadine, that you do not 
fall into just such a vampire’s nest.” 

Though warned by such a forcible example, 
Nadine could not find it in her heart to turn Mrs. 
Dorchester and Maud from Uplands, ingrates 
though they were. 

Time flew swift-winged by. For the first few 
months some strange, subtle sorrow seemed 
wearing Nadine’s life away. No one would have 
dreamed that it was the weight of a secret. She 
clung to her black robes, refusing to see Gilbert 
Wetherell when he called. 

The handsome young lover was in despair. 
Who ever heard of anything like this ? How 
could he press his suit when Nadine refused so 
steadily to see him ? 

She always sent back the same answer to his 
pleadings. She could not see him now ; it would 
not be right. 

In vain her aunt Hester Burns pleaded with 
her in Gilbert’s behalf. 

You have very foolish notions, my dear,” she 
said, one day, laying her hand on Nadine’s dark 


186 


maud Dorchester’s jealousy. 


curls. “ Now, if you were a young widow, who 
had recently lost her husband, I would not won- 
der at you for refusing to receive the attentions 
of a. lover ; it would be perfectly right and proper. 
But the loss of a parent is quite another matter.” 

“Now, my dear, I think you care for Mr. 
Wetherell, and if you do, why do you refuse to 
see him ? I have determined to change all this. 
You must take off these black gowns and wear 
something more suited to your age and beauty.” 

If Hester Burns had looked closely at the lovely 
face when she drew the comparison of the young 
widow she would have seen how deathly white 
Nadine grew — how she trembled. 

“If she but knew the terrible truth,” thought 
Nadine, shuddering guiltily at the dark secret 
buried in her bosom. 

There was always one great fear in her heart 
day and night lest, by some fatal chance, either 
Hester Burns or Mrs. Dorchester should find out 
that when she had mysteriously disappeared from 
Uplands she had not gone direct to Glen Farm. 


maud dokchester’s jealousy. 


187 


How could she account for how she had passed 
the time in the interim ? 

A dozen times or more Maud had broached the 
subject, asking, curiously : 

“ What ever possessed you to go to Glen Farm 
so suddenly, Nadine ? I thought you always 
dreaded the very idea of being banished to that 
wilderness. ” 

“I can call it nothing more nor less than a 
caprice,” Nadine answered, evasively ; and Maud 
noticed how anxious she always appeared to 
change the conversation. 

“ Do you know how I always accounted for it, 
Nadine V 9 

“No,” she. answered. 

“You remember you asked me to hand you 
your hat and sacque, saying that you were going 
for a short ramble with Captain Osmond. Well, 
I always thought you two must have quarreled, 
for he left the village that same afternoon. Did 
you hear of the tragic fate that befell him ?” 

Nadine shook her head. The power of speech 
seemed to have suddenly left her. 


188 


maud Dorchester’s jealousy. 


“A fortnight later, in glancing over the morn- 
ing paper, I read of a terrible accident in New 
York harbor — the boiler of a steamer exploded. 
Many of the passengers were killed outright. 
The name of Captain Osmond headed the list of 
those killed.” 

Not a muscle of Nadine’s face showed how the 
words, hurt her. She seemed dead to all human 
pain, she often told herself. 

“ Yes, she has quarrelled with him, and now 
Gilbert Wetherell has caught her heart in the 
rebound,” thought Maud, bitterly. 

The time came at last when Nadine consented 
to lay off her sombre robes. In her own heart she 
felt that she had paid due respect to Captain Os- 
mond’s memory as well as to her father’s. 

Putting on a white mull dress one day was like 
throwing off the old life. She felt once again like 
pretty defiant Nadine Halsey, the old judge’s will- 
ful daughter. The passed seemed like a dark, 
hideous dream, and she wondered vaguely how it 
could ever have happened. 

Gilbert Wetherell fell into the old habit of call- 


MAUD DORCHESTER S JEALOUSY. 


189 


in g every day at Uplands, and these were bitter- 
sweet days to Maud Dorchester. Ah ! it would 
have been better if Mrs. Dorchester had thought 
less of “support” and more of her daughter’s 
happiness, and taken her away from Uplands, 
then a tragedy would have been averted. 

It was cruel to endure the pangs that Maud 
suffered as she watched Gilbert Wetherell and 
Nadine. She had laid out quite a plan of action 
for herself. She was ever at Nadine’s side, and 
the measure was a very wise one, for whenever 
Gilbert sought Nadine he always found her cousin 
Maud by her side, and in this way many a tete-a- 
tete for which Gilbert longed was prevented. 

“I can never find you alone for one moment, 
Nadine !” he would cry, impatiently. “You must 
have entered into a conspiracy with Maud to be 
always present to prevent me from saying one 
word to you.” 

The little scenes which took place at times 
would have been pitiful had any one known their 
real meaning, but none did. 

When Gilbert Wetherell would approach them 


190 maud Dorchester’s jealousy. 

his eyes were for Nadine — his ears, his whole 
heart and soul, with hardly a thought for the girl 
by her side. He was always eager to secure 
Nadine to himself, making some slight, laughing 
excuse to Maud for doing so. 

Once, when he found Maud alone, he begged her 
to use her influence with Nadine to marry him. 

“Do you love her so much?” she asked, slowly; 
and if his mind had not been so engrossed with 
thought of Nadine he would have noticed the 
pain in her voice. 

“You ought to know that by this time, Maud,” 
he answered, laughingly, and the words were like 
dagger thrusts in Maud Dorchester’s heart. 

Yet she gave no sign. The least impatience or 
bitterness would have been fatal ; the least sign 
of pique, jealousy, or envy would have been 
destruction. She bore without wincing all the 
bitter pain, the heart-burning, the jealousy. 

Written words are coldly read. We speak of 
another’s pain, and describe without realizing it. 
We read the words jealousy and despair, and 
there comes to us no keen, sudden, terrible sense 


MAUD DORCHESTER S JEALOUSY. 


191 


of what they mean. Jealousy is an awful pain. 
It is not only that the brain whirls, the heart 
burns, all the strength leaves the limbs, the power 
of speech deserts the lips, the very voice grows 
faint and indistinct. It is a pain sharper than the 
pangs of death and twice as hard to bear. 

At length Gilbert Wetherell came to Maud one 
day, and, clasping her hands eagerly, cried out 
joyously : 

“ Congratulate me, Maud. Nadine has prom- 
ised at last to be my wife, and I am the happiest 
man in the universe.” 

All the color faded from her face — even the 
light died from her eyes — but he did not even 
notice it. 

She walked slowly to the house. Her mother 
met her on the porch. 

‘ ‘ Have you heard, Maud ?” she asked, anxiously. 

u Heard that it is settled? Nadine is to marry 
Gilbert Wetherell ?— yes !— But ‘ There’s many a 
slip ’twixt the cup and the lip,’ mamma.” 

“ I will never give up the hope of winning him 
until I see them married !” she cried out to herself 


192 


maud doechester’s jealousy. 


when she had reached her own room ; adding, 
under her breath : “ And then 1 will live to part 
them /” 

Maud turned the key in the lock, and flung her- 
self down on the lilies of the velvet carpet, sob- 
bing as though her heart would break — for her 
love lay in the mins around her ; she dared not 
think of the dark future. 

How long she lay there giving vent to that 
tempest of grief, she never remembered. The 
sound of the luncheon bell aroused her. She 
sprang to her feet, and as she crossed the room to 
touch the bell summoning her maid, she passed 
the long mirror, and the face that looked out at 
her startled her. 

It startled the maid Janet still more. 

“ Are you ill, Miss Maud ?” she cried in alarm. 

“ 111 !” repeated Maud — “ No !” and she laughed 
a terrible laugh that was worse than a bitter cry. 
What was all the illness the world held compared 
to what she was suffering then ! 

“ I will meet him at luncheon with a smile on 
my lips,” she thought. 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


193 


He should not know that he had power to drive 
the color from her face, the light from her eyes, 
and happiness from her heart. He should not 
know that life had lost all charm for her ; that 
the news of Nadine having promised to wed him 
had almost taken her life from her — he should 
never know it. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


“ Tired out are we — my heart and I. 

Suppose this world brought diadems # 

To tempt us, crusted with loose gems 
Of power and pleasures ? Let it try, 

We scarcely care to look even at 
A pretty child or God’s blue heaven ; 

We feel so tired, my heart and I.” 

As Maud stepped from her own room, she met 
Nadine walking rapidly through the corridor. 
She divined at once what the lovely flush on her 
cousin’s face, and the dreamy, far-away look in 
her beautiful eyes meant. 


194 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


Maud stopped short, and Nadine advanced, and 
in her old, impetuous fashion threw her white 
arms about her cousin’s neck. 

“ Oh, Maudy ! Maudy ! I am so happy, dear !” 
she whispered. “I feel as if the whole world 
could read it in my face.” 

“ It is because you are going to marry Gilbert 
Wetherell, of course,” returned Maud, coldly and 
proudly. 

“Yes,” said Nadine. “Are you not pleased, 
Maudy ?” 

“ Why should I not be ?” asked Maud. 

4 ‘ Of course, it was all my fancy, but do you 
know, Maudy, there was a time when I thought 
you cared for Gilbert.” 

With an iron hand Maud Dorchester beat back 
her bitter anger, which seemed fairly consuming 
her. It would never do for Nadine to think that. 

“I cannot imagine what put such a nonsensical 
thought as that into your head,” she said, rather 
curtly. 

“Do you know what Gilbert once said of you , 
Maudy ?” she went on, thoughtlessly, as they 


# 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 195 

paused for a moment in the broad doorway that 
led to the rose garden. 

“No,” replied Maud. 4 ‘ Nothing especially com- 
plimentary, I suppose.” 

“ It was very complimentary, I thought,” smiled 
Nadine, good-humoredly. “He said to me one 
day : ‘If I had never seen and learned to love you, 
dear, I might in time have loved your cousin 
Maud, and have asked her to be my wife.’” 

There was a moment of dead silence, during 
which the wind blew among the rose vines with 
a low, sobbing sound. 

“ Did he say that ?” asked Maud, slowly. 
“ That if he had never seen you he would have 
loved me ?” 

“ Yes, those were his very words ; but now he 
loves me better than the whole world, you know, 
Maud.”* 

“ Yes, I know. So he would have loved me had 
he not known you. Did he say what he should 
do if you died, Nadine ?” 

Nadine looked at her in dismay. 

“ If —I— died, did you say, Maudy ? Why, what 


196 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


a horrible idea ! Oh, Maudy, people in the sun- 
shine of love, with youth and strength, never 
think of death.” 

Maud bit her lips fiercely. How unfortunate 
that the thought had escaped her in words ! 

From that moment a violent, unreasoning ha- 
tred of Nadine came over her. 

“ But for her I might have won him ?” she 
would cry out, bitterly, when alone. “ He would 
have loved me ! He said so himself. I ought to 
abhor her. I do hate her.” 

As time wore on the frenzy of her jealous mad- 
ness increased. She wished Nadine were dead. 

She had come to that pass where there is no 
more hope of peace or calm ; where ideas of right 
and wrong become confused ; where she lost all 
thoughts of goodness and self-control. She for- 
got all about the anger of God, rewards and 
punishments. She thought of nothing except 
that she loved Gilbert Wetherell with all the 
strength and fervor of her despairing soul, and 
that she hated Nadine with the same intensity — 
a fierceness not to be told in words. 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


197 


Out in the sunshine among the roses, in the 
silent gloom of the midnight hour, waking or 
sleeping, the thought seemed to haunt her, “If 
Nadine were dead, he might love me.” 

If — Nadine — were — dead ! What an improb- 
able idea ! She was young, and in the very 
springtime of youth-glow. In all probability she 
would live long years yet— spend them as Gilbert’s 
wife. 

No, she would never spend them as Gilbert 
Wetherell’s wife — never, if she could prevent it. 

The arrangements for Nadine’s marriage went 
steadily on. The ceremony was to take place at 
Uplands, and “it was to be one of the grandest 
affairs,” so Gilbert said, “ that that part of the 
country ever witnessed.” 

“ Only three weeks more, and I can claim this 
little hand,” said Gilbert, one evening, as he sat 
by Nadine’s side in the spacious drawing-room. 

Maud, who was near them, looked up with a 
strange gleam in her eyes ; but neither of them 
saw — neither was observing her. 


198 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


“ I am always frightened to hear you speak so 
confidently,” said Nadine, with a little shudder. 

“ Are you, my darling ? Why should you be ? 
What can part us now ?” 

“ Sickness or death,” she replied, slowly. “ 1 
am almost ashamed to tell you, Gilbert, I have 
strange forebodings, as though something would 
come in the very zenith of our happiness to part 
us. I cannot shake off the presentiment.” 

Maud looked up with a guilty start, and turned 
hastily away, that they might not see her face 
and read — a secret there. 

It was well she did so, for Gilbert turned to her 
suddenly. Thinking to change the conversation, 
he said to Maud quickly : 

“I have not heard you sing for some time. 
Why do you cease favoring us with those charm- 
ing melodies, I wonder?” 

“If you really wish it, you shall hear me sing 
now,” she answered, delighted to please him. 

Years after she remembered this scene. Nadine 
was seated in a low, blue plush rocker in the 
shadow of the bay window, looking most lovely 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


199 


in white mull and pink rosebuds. Gilbert had 
left her side, and had followed Maud to the piano 
to turn the music. It was something new for 
him to leave Nadine’s side for Maud even for a 
moment, and that poor, slight action made her 
foolish hopes rise at once. 

Her eyes brightened ; her face flushed ; almost 
involuntarily her fingers strayed into a sweet and 
plaintive melody : 

“ Forget me not, though I repine 

Because you found another heart ; 

I give thee up ; thou ne’er wert mine; 

I say farewell, and part. 

“ Because you found a fairer face, 

A nobler name, a lovelier lot, 

I’ll meekly bow and yield the place ; 

But, oh ! forget me not.” 

Miss Dorchester had begun the song without 
thinking ; but as she proceeded, the words went 
home to her very heart ; her eyes filled with 
tears ; her voice faltered. By a desperate effort 
she controlled herself. 

For a moment Gilbert was startled, but no 
thought of himself entered his head. 


200 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


“ Surely, he will know what is in my heart 
now,” she thought to herself. But he did not. 

He bent his fair, handsome head kindly over 
her. 

“You are tired, Maud,” he said, gently, “or 
not well.” 

She made no answer for one minute ; she could 
not recover her voice. 

She wondered if he would linger by her side, 
and talk to her. But no. As the sun flower 
turns to the sun he had turned his face toward 
Nadine, then crossed the room quickly toward 
her, as though a magnet drew him. 

Maud rose from the piano, and again the words 
fell in a low murmur from her lips : 

“If he had not seen her, he would have loved 
and wedded me !” 

“ Are you speaking, Maudy ?” called Nadine. 

Again she started guiltily, and answered : 

“ No.” 

At last the preparations for the grand wedding 
were finally completed, and on the morrow Gil- 
bert Wetherell was to claim Nadine for his bride. 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


201 


On this night Nadine stood alone by her lace- 
draped window, looking afar out into the still 
beauty of the moonlit night. 

“ To-morrow is my wedding-day,” she mur- 
mured, “ and ah ! how strangely heavy my heart 
is. I wonder why it is so, when I love Gilbert so 
much. Do coming events cast their shadows 
before, I wonder ? Can it be that after we are 
happily wedded he will discover that terrible 
secret of the past ?” 

The words he had said to her that very after- 
noon hung like a pall over her soul. He had 
turned to her suddenly and said : 

“ Tell me the truth, Nadine ; did you ever really 
love that Captain Osmond?” 

The question had almost caused her to faint. 

“ No, Gilbert,” she replied, with a pitiful gasp, 
“ it was only a school-girl’s fancy. I never knew 
what real love meant in those days;” and the 
lovely face blanched to a dead white under his 
gaze. 

“ Suppose I had, now that he is dead, would 
you not have cared for me ?” she asked, trying to 


202 


WEDDING PREPARATIONS. 


speak lightly ; but despite the effort, her sweet 
voice quivered piteously as she bent forward, 
breathlessly, to catch his answer, which was to 
decide whether she should ever tell him all, or 
seal her lips with eternal silence. 

“No,” he answered, decisively. “No other 
man must have even the slightest claim on the 
one whom I make my wife. I should be jealous 
of the captain in such a case, even though he lay 
in his grave. It would always seem to me that 
his memory came between us, and was an impass- 
able barrier between your heart and mine.” 

That settled it. Come what might — weal or 
woe — he should never know — not even if she lay 
on her death-bed — the dark secret of the stormy 
past. 

She stood thinking of it, standing by the win- 
dow, on the eve before her wedding-day. 

In her chamber, in another part of the house, 
Maud Dorchester was looking out upon the same 
still moonlight scene. 

“I shall not give up hope until they leave the 
altar man and wife,” she muttered. “ Many a 


203 


“ UNHAPPY 18 THE BRIDE.” 

wedding is set, many a wedding-day dawns, and 
there is no marriage. We shall see, my pretty 
Nadine. You may lose your would-be bridegroom 
yet /” 

Were those words a prophecy of the terrible 
event which followed ? 


CHAPTER XX. 

u UNHAPPY IS THE BRIDE THE RAIN FALLS ON.” 

The twelfth of June, Nadine’s wedding-day. 
When the morning broke it was with a cold, gray 
sky, and indications of a coming storm. 

Nadine’s maid glanced out at the lowering inky 
clouds, and drew back with a little cry of fear. 

“It is going to storm,” she muttered. “Of 
course there is nothing in prophecies ; but they 
do say that the bride on whom the rain falls has 
a bitter and stormy life of it.” 

Even Hester Burns, practical woman though 
she was, looked out at the dark morn with anx- 
ious eyes. 


204 


“ UNHAPPY IS THE BRIDE.” 

Nadine herself looked quite thoughtful as she 
bade the maid draw aside the silken draperies 
from the window, and saw that on this, her wed- 
ding day, the sun refused to shine. 

Her attention was soon called from this subject 
to a magnificent bouquet of white roses on the 
table. She knew they must have been sent by 
Gilbert. 

“ From to-day I shall bury the past as though 
it had never been,” she murmured, drooping her 
face amid the fragrant blossoms. “ No one will 
know ; no one will ever find out.” 

This was to be the happiest day of her life, but 
somehow her heart felt strangely heavy and 
oppressed. 

At an early hour the guests began to gather, 
and soon the grand old house rang with mirth and 
laughter. 

The ceremony was to take place in the large 
double parlor, which had been magnificently dec- 
orated for the occasion ; and as the hour ap- 
proached, every one was on the qui vive of ex- 
pectancy. 


“unhappy is the bride.” 205 

Up in Nadine’s boudoir Jenny, the maid, 
assisted by faithful “Aunt Hester,” were putting 
the finishing touches to the bride-elect’s toilet, 
and never was bride fairer. 

The gleaming robe of white satin and lace fell 
in sweeping folds to the floor ; and the wedding 
vail half revealed, half concealed, a face whose 
beauty haunted those who saw her then to the 
last day of their lives. 

No word had passed Nadine’s lips since they 
began to dress her. 

Ordinarily a bride is difficult to please. She 
was pale and abstracted, looking like a marble 
Niobe. 

At last everything was in readiness, and a 
moment later the bridal party entered the parlor, 
and moved slowly toward the floral bell, where 
the minister stood awaiting them. 

Nadine seemed so fair, so childish, so dismayed. 
No one would ever have dreamed those rosebud 
lips had ever uttered solemn vows before. 

Quietly they took their places. 


206 


UNHAPPY IS THE BRIDE.' 


The murmur of admiration ceased, and a hush 
as solemn as death fell over the room. 

As the ey es of the old minister fell upon the 
lovely, childish face before him he started per- 
plexedly. 

“ Where have I seen such a face ?” he thought. 
“ Every lineament is strangely familiar to me. 
Ah, yes, I remember now. It is but a strong 
resemblance this bride bears to that one ; nothing 
more, I am sure ; but 1 can. tell when 1 hear her 
voice” 

At the first word he utters Nadine raises her 
eyes to his face, and then — the chill of death 
sweeps over her heart. The hand that Gilbert 
Wetherell clasps grows cold as ice, and trembles 
like a leaf in the wind ; the slender form quivers 
with intense excitement ; the color fades from 
her face, and awful terror looks out of the dark, 
dilated eyes. The wonder is that the shock did 
not kill her, for she has discovered in that one 
glance that this is the same minister who wedded 
her but a short time since to Captain Osmond. 

Only Heaven knew what she suffered as she 


UNHAPPY IS THE BRIDE.' 


207 


stood there. Would he recognize her, stop the 
ceremony, and ask of her, sternly : 

‘ 4 Where is that other one f* 

When he raised his eyes, would detection 
follow? Oh ! Heaven send quickly — strike 
quickly ! Another moment of this terrible sus- 
pense would kill her. 

Then the minister turned to her. 

No one guessed that at that terrible moment 
the beautiful young bride had almost fallen down 
dead with fear. 

The little hand Gilhert held trembled so vio- 
lently that he bent his handsome head over the 
orange-crowned dark one, whispering, gently : 

“ Courage! my beautiful little love! Why, it 
almost seems to me as though you shrank from 
the ceremony that is to give you to me.” 

Those words aroused her ; she must not let the 
grand assemblage see how greatly the face of this 
kindly old minister had terrified her. 

Nadine felt that the thoughtful eyes were bent 
upon her, searching her very soul. Ah ! would he 
remember her ? If he did it would be but a very 


208 


UNHAPPY IS THE BRIDE. 


few moments ere disgrace followed ; he would 
denounce her before all the guests, even though 
she explained all truthfully, that she dared keep 
such a solemn secret from the man who was 
standing by her side at the altar ; and perhaps in 
that awful moment Gilbert would turn from her 
and forsake her. And the guests ! How amazed 
they would be. Some few, perhaps, might be 
sorry for her, but the majority would delight in 
so piquant a scandal. 

Many women have knelt upon the scaffold, and 
have suffered less with the bright knife suspended 
over their heads than Nadine endured at that 
moment, with the weight of that cruel secret 
lying on her heart. 

Although the old minister leaned forward 
breathlessly to catch the sound of the bride’s voice, 
no wonder he failed to recognize it : it sounded 
like nothing human, it was so hoarse and strange. 

“ No, no ; not the same one— of course not !” 
was the old minister’s mental comment. “But 
the resemblance between them is very great.” 


UNHAPPY IS THE BRIDE. 


209 


tl 


A sigh of relief fluttered over his lips, and he 
went on with the ceremony. 

At length it was over. Friends gathered about 
the bride and groom, offering congratulations. 
There was one who uttered the words with a 
smile on her lips, while her heart was on fire. It 
was Maud Dorchester. 

She had hoped against hope up to the last 
moment. Nothing had transpired to part them. 
The wedding was over, and now Nadine and 
Gilbert Wetherell were one. 

“ I will not despair even yet” murmured Maud, 
bending her pale, lovely face over the bouquet of 
roses she carried. “ Listen, pretty buds; listen, 
green leaves — I will part them ! Solemn as is their 
vow just uttered, mine shall be more solemn 
still— I will part them !” 

How little she dreamed that cruel fate had taken 
it quite out of her hands. 

Nadine was hurried away to her boudoir to 
change her bridal dress for a travelling costume. 
As she passed up the broad, vine wreathed stair- 
way, a singular event transpired, which threw the 


210 


UNHAPPY IS THE BRIDE. 


whole assembly for an instant into a panic of 
terror. 

The flowing fluttering bridal vail caught on one 
of the thorns of the rose vine, overturning a fairy 
lamp which hung suspended from the balustrade, 
amid the green foliage. In an instant the filmy 
lace ignated, and Nadine, in her bridal robes, was 
wrapped in a winding sheet of flame. 

It was certainly the will of Heaveu that caused 
one of the gentlemen present to be coming down 
the stairs, with his wife’s long cloak thrown over 
his arm. 

In an instant of time he had sprung forward 
and wrapped it about Nadine, lifting her in his 
strong arms as though she had been an infant, 
and rushing to the corridor above with her. 

Aid had come to her so promptly that other 
than the ruined vail and lovely dress, no damage 
was done, though it took some time to convince 
the startled guests of this. 

Gilbert Wetherell had rushed to his bride’s room 
almost frantic when he heard what had tran- 
spired. 


(i UNHAPPY IS THE BRIDE. 


211 


Hester Burns answered his hurried knock. 

“It is all right, my dear Gilbert,” she said. 
“We have all had a little scare ; that is all. 
Nadine is all right now. She will be ready in a 
very few minutes. Is the carriage at the door ?” 

Thus assured that his darling was not suffering 
from nervous fright, Gilbert turned away, 
breathing freer. 

Down in the parlor the guests were discussing 
the matter with subdued voices. 

In the servants hall below, the servants were 
gathered about Nadine’s maid, who was giving 
them a graphic account of the affair. 

“ You ought to see the vail and wedding-dress,” 
she went on. “It would make you fairly shud- 
der to look at them. I didn’t say anything to 
Miss Nadine, or rather Mrs. Wetherell, when I 
saw them. I just strangled the cry of dismay in 
my throat and turned away. I’m not supersti- 
tious, but, then, I’ve often heard if anything hap- 
pens to a wedding-dress it means woe to the bride 
who wears it. Why, once I read of a bride who 
was signing her name in the old church register, 


212 


“unhappy is the bride.” 

when by some unfortunate means, the ink well 
overturned and splashed over on it. 

“‘My wedding dress is ruined!’ she cried. 
‘ How sorry I am !’ 

“ As my lady was leaving the church with her 
bridegroom, in her carriage, the horses took fright 
and ran away. They picked up my lady, lying 
face downward in the long green grass, dead — 
dead in her ruined bridal robes !” 

“ Heaven grant that no ill will conie to Nadine, 
the darling of Uplands !” the old servants cried, 
turning away, as they brushed the moisture 
from their eyes. 

Despite the accident, Nadine was soon ready for 
her journey, and amid a shower of rice and satin 
slippers, merry laughter and good wishes, Gilbert 
Wetherell and his bride drove away from 
Uplands. 

Maud Dorchester’s face was the last one they 
saw as they turned an abrupt curve in the road. 

Nearer did a wedded pair start out with brighter 
hopes, but it would have been better for poor 
Nadine if she could have died then and there. 


CAPTAIN OSMOND S FATE. 


213 


CHAPTER XXI. 

CAPTAIN OSMOND’S FATE. 

We must take our readers back a little— to a 
scene transpiring on board one of the steamers 
bound for New York. 

It was midnight. The deck was deserted, save 
by the sailors, and one man, pacing to and fro, 
restlessly enough. 

“ To morrow we shall reach port,” he muttered. 
“ There will be little enough rest or sleep for me 
until then.” 

All the night long he paces the deck, watching 
the long hours roll by,— watches the stars die out 
of the sky and morning dawn. 

At length the steamer touches the New York 
wharf, and amidst the ringing of bells and the 
jostling of the throng, he steps on the gang-plank, 
and a moment later, is again on terra firma. 

Suddenly some one touches him on the 
shoulder, and a familiar voice cries out : 


214 


captain osmond’s fate. 


“Am I mad, or am I dreaming? Captain 
Osmond, by all that is wonderful, or his ghost ! 
Yes, it is Captain Osmond !” 

The captain turned quickly about, and found 
himself face to face with his aunt, Kate Graham. 

“Yes, it is your nephew, and no mistake,” he 
responded. ‘ ‘ It’s hard to get rid of a bad penny, 
you know. Come, let us get into a carriage. On 
my way to my hotel, I will tell you how it hap- 
pened that I am here instead of being food for 
the fishes. Of course you believed, as every one 
else did, that I was drowned at the time of that 
steamer explosion.” 

“ Yes,” she answered ; “ your name headed the 
list of those killed.” 

When they were seated in the private dining- 
room, where he had ordered luncheon, the captain 
said, slowly : 

“There is so little to explain, that it can be 
told in a few words. 

“ You will remember that I sent you word I 
had just married my pretty, willful Nadine. 
Well, we went on board the ill-fated steamer, and 


captain osmond’s fate. 


215 


as we neared the New York harbor the accident 
occurred. I was standing in close proximity to 
the boiler, and beyond a quick, terrible pain in 
the back of my head, and the terrible sound of 
escaping steam in my ears, I was utterly uncon- 
scious of what had happened. 

“ Weeks later, when I woke to a realization of 
events that were transpiring about me, I found 
myself on board of a steamer bound for China. 
I had been rescued by some of the crew of this 
out-going vessel. There was nothing for it but 
to wait with as much patience as possible for the 
return trip. In the interim, I was seized with a 
fever which kept me in China for months, and as 
soon as I was able, I embarked for New York. 
That’s the long and short of the whole story. 

“Now about Nadine,” he went on eagerly, 
“was 'she saved, or — or—” 

“Yes, she was saved,” replied his aunt. “I 
heard soon after that she was at Uplands. I 
have other news for you, George,” she said, lay- 
ing her hand on her nephew’s arm. 


216 


captain osmond’s fate. 


She hesitated, and the captain asked, impa- 
tiently : 

“ Well, what is the news? I do not suppose it 
will improve by keeping. Is it something about 
Nadine ?” 

She nodded, and drawing her pocket-book from 
her pocket, took from it a small slip cut from a 
newspaper. 

“This will tell you better than I could,” she 
said. “But let me warn you before you have 
read it to do nothing rash.” 

As she spoke she placed the clipping before 
him. 

One glance, and Captain Osmond’s dark face 
turned fairly livid ; his eyes blazed, and the cruel 
lines about his mouth deepened. 

It was the announcement of the approaching 
marriage of Nadine, only daughter of the late 
Judge Halsey, and Gilbert Wetherell, the promi- 
nent New York lawyer. The notice furthermore 
stated that the ceremony was to take place on the 
12th of June. 

Osmond sprang to his feet. 


captain osmond’s fate. 


217 


“The twelfth of June!” he cried, hoarsely. 
“ Why, that is to-day /” 

With a fierce imprecation, he reached for his 
hat and coat. 

“ What would you do, George ?” cried his aunt, 
in alarm. “The expression of your face terrifies 
me.” 

“ Do !” he cried. “ What do you suppose I’m go- 
ing to do ? I shall go to Uplands at once and stop 
the ceremony. So she was about to marry that 
accursed Wetherell. We shall see about that.” 

“ She had every reason to believe you dead, you 
know, and that she was free to marry again if she 
chose. Do not lose sight of that fact.” 

“No doubt my supposed death was a source of 
much gratification to her,” he remarked, grimly. 
“It will be a glorious revenge to take her from 
Wetherell in the very hour in which the cere- 
mony was to have taken place, and before the 
astonished guests that will be assembled to wit- 
ness it — a glorious revenge. I always thought 
she had a liking for that handsome aristocrat 


218 


captain osmond’s fate. 


which would one day burst forth. Wetherell has 
won her heart— at last.” 

On hurrying to the depot he found it would be 
quite an hour before the train for Cornwall started. 

He must do something to while away the hours 
until then. He hurried out into the street. He 
must walk and think. Men spoke to him ; chil- 
dren prattled as they passed him by ; birds sang 
in his ears ; but he never saw ; he never heeded. 
His whole soul was concentrated on the glorious 
revenge it would be to him to separate Nadine 
from the man she loved. 

Men stumbled against him as he walked along ; 
he did not notice it. Women and children looked 
at the dark, handsome, absorbed face curiously as 
he passed them ; the fierce expression of his face 
frightened them ; the very breath that passed his 
lips was like fire. His face was flushed ; his lips 
twitched nervously. He looked like a man dan- 
gerous to cross — dangerous to thwart. 

It seemed to him that the train fairly crept 
along. It was noon when he reached Cornwall. 

It was not far to Uplands ; and, leaving the 


captain osmond’s fate. 


219 


depot, he struck into the old familiar path that 
would lead him across lots to the rear of the 
house. At the gate he saw the familiar figure of 
the old butler standing, with his arms leaning on 
the gate. 

“ Heaven bless us, sir !” he cried. “ Is it really 
you ? This is a great surprise, Captain, for some 
time since we read of your death.” 

“I was saved almost by a miracle,” responded 
the captain. “ I would like to see Miss Nadine,” 
he went on. “ Give her my card, and say I wish 
to see her immediately ; that I prefer waiting here 
to coming into the house.” 

The old butler smiled broadly. 

“ Of course you didn’t know it, sir, but this is 
Miss Naddy’s wedding-day. She was married an 
hour since, and they have gone.” 

“ Gone !” repeated the captain, with a hoarse 
gasp. “Did I understand you to-day they were 
already married — and gone ?” 

“ That’s what I said, sir,” replied the man, 
respectfully, wondering at the captain’s excited 


manner. 


220 


CAPTAIN OSMOND S FATE. 


“ Will you tell me where they have gone ?” he 
asked. 

“ To the home of Mr. Wetherell’s father, sir; 
but where that may be I cannot say.” 

The captain drew a bill from his pocket. 

“ Try and find out exactly where the place is,” 
he said, thrusting it in the man’s hand. 

“Certainly, sir,” replied the man, touching his 
cap. 

“ I will remain here until you return,” he said. 

It seemed to the captain that he was gone an 
endless length of time. At last he reappeared. 

“ They have gone directly to the Wetherell villa 
at Stamford, where they will remain for two days 
only. Then they go to Europe, sailing on the 
Baltic. They will travel about the continent dur- 
ing the winter, remaining most of the time in the 
south of France, and — ” 

“Thanks,” interrupted Osmond, cutting him 
short. “ All I required to know is w T here they 
will be to-day. At Stamford, you said ? Thank 
you. Good-day.” 

The old butler of Uplands watched the tall, 


Captain osmond’s fate. 


221 


receding figure of the captain until it was lost in 
the dense foliage in the distance. 

“How the man’s eyes flashed !” he muttered, 
turning thoughtfully toward the house. “ Some- 
how I wish that I had not given him the infor- 
mation — I cannot tell why.” 

Captain Osmond turned away from Uplands 
with a heart raging with the bitter pangs of jeal- 
ous fury. 

He was just in time to catch the boat down to 
New York, and was fortunate enough to find a 
train just about to start for Stamford soon after 
he reached the Grand Central Depot. 

The sun was just setting when he arrived at his 
destination. Almost every one knew where the 
Wetherell mansion was. He found no trouble in 
being directed to it. 

A laugh, cruel to hear, fell from his lips as he 
stood before the arched entrance gate for a 
moment, deciding on the course of action he 
would pursue. 

“She is not mourning for me,” he muttered, 
grimly, “ that is certain.” 


222 


NADINE MEETS HER DCOM. 


Throwing open the gate, he strode up the wind- 
ing graveled walk toward the house. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

POOR NADINE MEETS HER DOOM UPON HER WED- 
DING DAY. 

Handsome, happy Gilbert Wetherell could 
scarcely wait until the carriage was out of the 
range of view of the merry guests to stoop down 
and kiss the pale lips of his lovely little bride. 

“ Mine at last, Nadine darling !” he cried, rap- 
turously — “mine to love and to cherish until 
death does us part. This is the happiest day of 
my life, dear.” 

“ Do you love' me so very much, Gilbert V’ she 
asked, timidly. 

He laughed in a gay, boyish fashion. 

“More than words can tell, Nadine. If I had 
lost you I would not have cared to live. Some 
men have had many loves, Nadine : I have had 
only one. You have been enshrined in my heart 


NADINE MEETS HER DOOM. 


223 


from the first moment we met. The law of attrac- 
tion was there from that moment ; my heart went 
from me and went out to you. I shall do every- 
thing in my power to make you happy, dear. We 
will commence life by having no secrets from each 
other.” 

What put that into his head ? The very words 
pierced her heart like the sharp blade of a dagger. 
Could he suspect ? Ah, no ; impossible. 

Once again the impulse was strong upon her to 
tell him all, but she shrank from doing so, on this 
their wedding day. Surely, now that she had 
waited so long, there would be no harm in waiting 
a little longer. 

“ We shall have to remain over in New York 
an hour or so,” said Gilbert, as they steamed into 
the Grand Central Depot. “ We will drive to the 
Fifth Avenue Hotel and have luncheon there.” 

“ Just as you please, dear,” said the pretty little 
bride, timidly, a lovely blush mantling her win- 
some, dimpled face. 

Arriving at the Fifth Avenue, although they 
intended to stay but an hour or so for luncheon, 


224 


NADINE MEETS HER DOOM. 


Gilbert wrote down their names on the register 
with much importance and many flourishes — 
“ Gilbert Wetherell and Wife. ” He quite felt the 
importance of his new position, and it seemed to 
him that every one he met must certainly read in 
his face that he was a young husband — a bride- 
groom. 

It was quite late in the afternoon when they 
reached Wetherell Villa. Gilbert’s mother and 
sister were at the station to meet them, and the 
pretty little bride received a royal welcome to his 
grand old home. 

At his special, earnest request, no guests were 
assembled, for, after a day’s rest there, they were 
to resume their journey back to New York and 
board the steamer. 

“ It is really too bad you have not arranged to 
stay longer at the villa,” said Gilbert’s sister, 
Jessie. “ I have just been telling brother he is 
altogether selfish in wanting you all to himself so 
soon, I have so much to show you around the 
house and grounds. At the farther end of the 
garden is a rosebush fairly laden with white rose- 


NADINE MEETS HER DOOM. 


225 


buds. I call that Nadine’s rose-bush, because I 
planted it early in the spring, when brother 
wrote home about his betrothal to you, and I 
said, 4 About the time he brings his bride here 
this bush will be laden with blooms. She shall 
pluck the very first that has ever been gathered 
from the stem.’ Will you come with me and see 
them? Oh, they are just too lovely for any- 
thing !” Seeing Nadine glance at her husband, 
the mischievous girl added, roguishly : “ Surely 
Gilbert will be able to allow you out of his sight 
for that length of time.” 

“Of course I shall have to acquiesce with all 
possible grace,” Gilbert responded, smiling. 

He never could have told what impulse 
prompted him to take Nadine then and there in 
his arms and kiss her rosy mouth before his mis- 
chievous sister and his grave, stately mother. 

The picture of Nadine as he saw her then — his 
pretty little bride, robed in a dress of fleecy white, 
leaning against the rose- wreathed pillar of the 
porch, the rays of the setting sun falling on her 
dimpled face, lighting up those dark, wondrous 


226 


NADINE MEETS HEK DOOM. 


eyes, and the rings of soft brown curls lying on 
her white forehead. 

He never saw her with the same sunny smile 
on her rosy lips again, or the same light in her 
bonny eyes. 

“You shall come with me to my boudoir, 
where we can have the most comfortable of chats, 
my dear Gilbert,” said his mother ; and he fol- 
lowed her, still smiling, to her cosy bijou of a 
room. 

As Nadine followed Jessie down the walk, the 
latter suddenly stopped short. 

“Dear me, how stupid I am!” she cried to 
Nadine. “ I had intended bringing a little wil- 
low basket to fill with flowers for the table. If 
you will excuse me a moment I will go and fetch 
it.” 

“ Certainly,” replied Nadine. “ I will help you 
to fill it. I am so fond of roses. We have some 
famous ones at Uplands. You would be delighted 
with them.” 

“ To the right the grounds stretch down to the 


NADINE MEETS HER DOOM. 


227 


water’s edge,” said Jessie. 4 ‘Amuse yourself by 
watching the yachts if you get lonely.” 

“ I shall not be lonely, I’m sure,” said Nadine, 
brightly ; aud Jessie Wetherell flitted away on 
her errand. 

How long she stood there watching the grace- 
ful, white-winged sails she never new. Sounds 
of heavy footsteps on the gravel walk aroused her 
from her happy reverie. 

Why did the very air seem stifling and oppres- 
sive? Why did the golden light seem to fade 
from the sun, the beautiful earth to grow dark as 
Hades, and the heart in her bosom to break with 
one terrible, awful throb ? 

Nadine turned her beautiful head, and saw a 
dark-bearded man standing before her, whose ter- 
rible eyes seemed burning into her very soul. A 
chill so bitter, so deep, she thought it must be 
death, crept over her. The man took a step for- 
ward. She raised her white arms as though be- 
seeching Heaven to save her. Even before his 
voice fell on her terrified ears she knew the truth : 
it was Captain Osmond /” 


228 


NADINE M^ETS HER DOOM. 


Like one fascinated, Nadine stood looking at 
him. Surely, the most pitiful, cowering creature 
that ever the sun shone on. 

The grave had given back its dead. The man 
whom she had believed to be lying cold and still 
in death — the man from whom she had believed 
Heaven had freed her — stood in the flesh before 
her, his dark, burning, revengeful eyes glaring 
down into her own. 

The shock was so awful she vaguely wondered 
why she had not fallen down dead at his feet at 
the first terrible glance. 

He took one step forward, and a hand, hard and 
heavy, clutched her wTiite arm. A voice, terrible 
in its pitiless' passion, hissed in her ear : 

“You are my wife, Nadine! What are you 
doing here V 

For a moment she was stricken dumb. A terri- 
ble sound filled her ears ; flashes of red, glaring 
light played before her eyes ; but through it all, 
she raised her eyes to the dark, stern face, so 
terrible in its anger, bending over her. 

The hold upon her white arm tightened, so that 


NADINE MEETS t HER DOOM. 


229 


she could have cried aloud with the pain, but she 
did not. 

Oh ! how the wind sobbed over the river and 
among the trees, as though it knew and could 
understand her deadly peril, and knew, in that 
awful moment, a human heart was breaking. 

She lifted her beautiful face, ghastly with the 
pallor of death upon it, to her mortal foe. No 
cry fell from her ashen lips, though it seemed to 
her she was dying. 

“What is that ring doing on your hand?” he 
asked, fiercely, pointing to the marriage ring 
which Gilbert had placed on her hand only that 
morning. “ It is not mine ; you are not wearing 
mine , I see. Whose is that V 9 

“My husband’s,” she uttered, faintly. 

“ Your husband’s !” he repeated, with a laugh, 
and she would rather have heard any sound on 
earth than that terrible laughter. “Have you 
dared marry another ?” 

She raised her dazed eyes to the white fleecy 
clouds. 


230 


NADINE MEETS HER DOOM. 


“ Oh, if the angels would but help me 1” was 
her silent prayer. 

Poor, hapless Nadine ! Her doom had fallen 
upon her while the sun shone, the birds sang, and 
the flowers bloomed. 

Looking at her white, despairing face, he read 
unutterable fear there. 

It was quite useless to withhold the truth from 
him any longer, she was saying to herself. She 
must tell him that only this morning she had 
wedded another. Then if he killed her, struck 
her down among the roses and tender grasses that 
he was crushing beneath his feet, it would not 
matter much. What could bodily pain be to 
what she was suffering then ? 

“ I will tell you the truth,” she said, slowly, 
and with great effort. " I believed you dead, and 
I — I married again. This would have been my 
wedding-day. I — I — was wedded this morning to 
Gilbert Wetherell !” And the way in which her 
voice trembled as she uttered that name she had 
learned to love so well would have brought tears 
to any one’s eyes. 


NADINE MEETS HER DOOM. 


231 


She shrank from the terrible volcano of anger 
these words evoked. It seemed to her he revelled 
in torturing her. She raised her beautiful face to 
his with the shadow of death in her despairing 
eyes. She quite believed he would kill her then 
and there. 

“ I am your lord and master. You are my 
wife,” he said, harshly. • “No one else has the 
right to claim you. You shall leave this place at 
once.” 

“ To go with you ?” shewvhispered, recoiling. 

“ Certainly,” he replied, “you must go with 
your husband. What a question !” 

“I would rather you would kill me here and 
now!” she cried, with a bitter wail. “I would 
prefer death to going with you. Ah, Heaven, I 
cannot go !” 


232 


breaking my heart. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

“she has thought less of breaking my heart, 

THAN A CHILD THINKS OF BREAKING A TOY.” 

Nadine had sunk down on her knees, cowering 
low before the fierce, dark- faced man, who held 
her white arm in such a steel -like grasp. 

“In mercy, spare me!” she gasped. “ What 
you ask is impossible. I cannot go with you. I 
cannot ; I would die first !” 

“ It is useless to talk nonsense, Nadine,” he 
said, impatiently, the dark frown deepening on 
his face. “Where 1 go, you shall follow. I am 
your lord and master ; the sooner you begin to 
realize that the better. My carriage is in waiting 
at the end of the lane. Come !” 

“Let me speak just one word of farewell to him 
whom I am leaving for ever,” she wailed out 
sharply. “ Give me that privilege.” 

“No; not one word,” he replied, harshly. 
“Why should I? You can write a short note, 


BREAKING MY HEART. 


233 


however,” he said, “ that he may understand 
thoroughly that all is over between you and him- 
self.” And as he spoke he tore a leaf from his 
memorandum, which he handed her, together 
with a pencil, remarking : “ But a few words are 
necessary.”' 

With a hand trembling with emotion, Nadine 
took the pencil, and wrote the following lines : 

“ Gilbert : Heaven never intended us for each 
other. A barrier has risen between us which 
severs us as completely from each other as though 
one of us lay in the grave. Forget me, if you 
can, and be happy without me. I inclose the 
wedding-ring you gave me, Gilbert, — and — and — ” 

“ That’s all that need be written,” cut in Os- 
mond, angrily. “ Never mind writing a long 
letter about it ; sign your name to it, and let it go 
at that.” 

And she continued : 

“ I hope some day some one more worthy than 
I may wear it. Yours in great sorrow, 

“ Nadine.” 


234 


BREAKING MY HEART. 


Captain Osmond snatched it from her hand, 
with a fierce imprecation. 

“ Erase that: ‘ Yours in great sorrow,’ and 
sign simply your name.” 

In her great despair, she obeyed ; and drawing 
off her wedding-ring wrapped it within the note, 
which she folded length-wise, laying it conspic- 
uously on the green shaven lawn, after having 
addressed it to Gilbert. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, harshly, for she 
had sunk down on her knees, where she remained 
perfectly motionless, her face buried in her hands. 

There was no answer. He found she had 
fainted. 

Catching up the slight figure in his strong 
arms, Captain Osmond bore her quickly to his 
carriage, which was in waiting. 

Scarcely ten minutes had elapsed from the time 
Jessie Wetherell parted from Nadine, for the 
ostensible purpose of getting a basket for the 
roses, ere she re-appeared on the porch accom- 
panied by her brother. 


BREAKING MY HEART. 


235 


Gayly he laughed and chatted with Jessie, as 
they came slowly down the path together. 

“I do not see Nadine,” said Jessie, glancing 
about surprisedly. “I told her to wait for me 
here.” 

At that moment her quick eye detected the 
little tri- cornered note on the grass, and, girl- 
fashion, she pounced upon it at once. 

“Why, it’s a note, and directed to you, Gil- 
bert,” she exclaimed in astonishment. “ There is 
something rather heavy inside. What can it 
mean ?” 

“ The obvious thing, at least so it would appear 
to any one else, is to open it and see,” replied 
Wetherell, good-humoredly. 

“ But it is directed to you,” persisted Jessie, 
adding : “ Do you think I would open other 
people’s notes ?” 

“ Yes, if the writer considered the contents so 
unimportant as to place the communication on 
the lawn,” he said, still smiling. “Ah, it is in 
Nadine’s handwriting,” he cried, as he caught 
sight of the delicate chirography. 


236 


BREAKING MY HEART. 


In a trice he had tom it open, and the wedding 
ring he had but that morning given Nadine rolled 
into his hand. 

“ Why, Jessie !” he gasped, as he ran his eyes 
over the few lines, u come here : read this. Why, 
what can it mean ?” 

His handsome face had suddenly grown pale. 
He looked first at the note, then at the ring. 

Jessie took them from his hand, and as she 
read the contents a cry of consternation broke 
from her lips. 

“ Do you know, it looks to me as though 
Nadine has left you, brother,” she faltered. 

The terrible shock those words gave him would 
have killed a weaker man. 

“ I will not believe it, Jessie,” he cried. “ It is 
but a jest of Nadine’s. She is no doubt hiding 
behind some of those rose bushes watching me in 
a spirit of mischief to see how I take it.” 

“ Nadine !” he called, crushing the note and 
the ring together into his vest pocket. “ Nadine, 
my darling !” but no Nadine answered him from 
among the roses. 


BREAKING MY HEART. 


237 


“ Nadine!” he called again, sharply. The sigh- 
ing breeze caught up the echo, then all was silent 
save the loud beating of the hearts of these two 
who stood looking in affright into each other’s 
white faces. 

A great groan burst from Gilbert Wetherell’s 
lips. He sank down on the nearest garden seat, 
covering his face with his hands. 

“Oh brother,” sobbed Jessie, throwing herself 
on her knees beside him and catching his hand in 
hers, “ what shall I say to comfort you ? What 
can I do ?” 

“Leave me to myself, Jessie,” he said, in a 
voice husky with emotion ; “it is the greatest 
kindness you can do me.” 

Mrs. Wetherell was fairly electrified with the 
terrible news when Jessie flew into the house and 
told her in broken gasps what had happened. 

Like her son, she refused at first to believe it ; 
but when a thorough search was made through 
every portion of the house and surrounding 
grounds the truth forced itself upon her. 

At last she sought her son in his room. She 


238 


BREAKING MY HEART. 


found him busy packing his portmanteau. The 
expression of his pale, handsome face frightened 
her. 

“Where are you going ? What do you intend 
to do, Gilbert?” she exclaimed, anxiously. “Oh, 
my son, you must tell me.” 

“I am going to find my wife, mother,” he 
replied, “if I have to search the whole world 
over to find her, and force her to come back to 
me.” 

Mrs. Wetherell laid her wrinkled, jeweled hand 
on her son’s arm. 

“ Force her to return to you !’” she repeated, 
slowly. “No, no, my son, never do that. If 
she does not love you well enough to give up the 
whole world for your sake, let her go.” 

“Those are easy words to say , mother,” he 
replied, huskily, “but it is not easy to contem- 
plate a ruined, wrecked life ; and that is what my 
existence would be without her.” 

“ Meet your trouble like a man, and a brave one, 
Gilbert,” she said, earnestly. “ She is dead to you 
from this moment forever. She does not love 


BREAKING MY HEART. 


239 


\ 

you, my poor boy, or she would never have left 
you — rely upon that.” 

When his mother had left him, tears that were 
no shame to his manhood, forced their way to his 
eyes, as he threw himself down in a cushioned 
arm-chair and groaned aloud in his abject misery. 

Life without Nadine, his darling, the loadstar 
of his life ! The very agony of the thought was 
unendurable to him. 

If she had been lying in her grave his grief 
would not have been so bitter. But she had left 
him — fled from him ; she had thought less of 
breaking his heart than a child thinks of breaking 
a toy of which it is tired : and he cried out to 
Heaven against the capriciousness of women. 

“ Mother is right !” he exclaimed bitterly at 
length. “ If she does not love me, why seek her ? 
Once before I made the resolve that I would teach 
myself to forget her — tear her image from my 
bosom, though my heart be at the root. Oh, 
Nadine, Nadine ! — so fair, yet so cruelly false and 
fickle ! — I cannot curse her. I have loved her too 
well for that. She has blighted my life, but she 


240 


BREAKING MY HEART. 


shall see that my heart is not broken quite. 1 
shall never forgive her, though she came back to 
me begging me on her knees to do so !” he told 
himself, in the madness and first sting of his grief. 

That night Gilbert Wetherell left home, to be 
gone long years — perhaps forever — as he told his 
mother and sister. 

Jessie clung to him weeping as she bid him 
good-by. 

“I will never believe that Nadine did not love 
you, brother,” she whispered, twining her white 
arms around his neck, and laying her soft, dimpled 
cheek against his caressingly. “ There is some- 
thing about her strange disappearance that I can- 
not fathom or understand. Oh, Gilbert ! never 
loose faith in Nadine. I never shall, in face of it 
ah.” 

His face darkened wrathfully. 

“ The words in her note were plain enough,” he 
said, bitterly. 

He did not tell Jessie that the tiny golden cir- 
clet he had found inclosed, which was an emblem 
of that love which was never to end, he had 


BREAKING MY HEART. 


241 


crushed into a shapeless mass beneath his heel, 
and flung from the open window. 

He took passage the following day on the Baltic 
for Liverpool, as had been the original intention, 
but there was no bride with him. 

From that day handsome, debonair Gilbert 
Wetherell was a changed man. He grew hard, 
cold and cynical ; the very sight of a beautiful 
woman was abhorrent to him. 

“ He knew them !” he would mutter to himself, 
as he turned frowningly away from many a pair 
of bright eyes and coquettish smiles. 1 ‘ It was 
their plan to draw a man on to love them, then 
fling his love back in his face, and break his 
heart.” 

As time wore on his heart grew more bitter 
and harder than ever against Nadine, though 
there were times when he cried out to Heaven, 
that, in spite of it all, he loved her still. 


242 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

NADINE MAKES A DARING ESCAPE. 

When consciousness returned to Nadine she 
found herself in a carriage with Osmond, whirl- 
ing swiftly over the uneven country road. Then 
— Heaven pity her ! — she remembered what had 
befallen her. But even with that knowledge her 
heart did not break. Hearts never break until 
God wills it. 

u Where are you taking me V she moaned. 

“ Home,” he replied, grimly. “ Does not that 
intelligence please you ?” 

She could not reply. Her heart was too full for 
utterance. She knew it was sinful, but she could 
not help crying out to Heaven to let her die there 
and then. 

Slowly the hours passed, and the carriage 
rolled steadily on. Day broke pink and golden 
over the eastern hills, and found them still pursu- 
ing their journey. 

Captain Osmond stopped at a desolate wayside 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


243 


tavern for breakfast, but Nadine shrank back, 
utterly refusing it ; food from his hands would 
choke her. 

“ Suit yourself about eating,” said the captain, 
grimly. “ No doubt you’ll come to your appetite 
sooner or later, ” as he ordered the driver to pro- 
ceed. 

For long hours they rode on again in utter 
silence, which was broken at length by Captain 
Osmond remarking : 

‘‘We make the entire journey by carriage. If 
you expect your strength to last, you had better 
partake of that lunch I had put up for you.” 

She turned her head away without answering. 

Again the darkness of night gathered over the 
earth, and still the carriage rolled on close by the 
margin of the sound, whose waters beat the shore 
with a low, dreary wash. 

Once Nadine lifted her head from her hands 
and gazed out upon the water, tipped by the 
golden light of the stars. Ah ! Heaven pity her ! 
what a world of misery lay before her ! How could 
she live her life out with this man she abhorred 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


244 

so greatly— this man who had come back from the 
grave, as it were, to part her from him whom she 
had learned to love too late ? 

A strange, dreary thought occurred to her. Ah, 
if she could but open the carriage door softly, upon 
the side on which she sat, without attracting Cap- 
tain Osmond’s attention ! Then, with one swift 
leap, whirl down from the carriage— down into 
the starlit waters below, and find peace and free- 
dom there ! 

Amid the crunching of the rapidly revolving 
wheels upon the pebbled road, Osmond did not 
hear the handle of the door turn ever so softly and 
cautiously. He must have been thinking ever so 
deeply that he did not feel the cold breeze w^afted 
up from the water or hear the wash of the waves. 

Nadine gathered her garments closer about her, 
planted one foot firmly on the carriage steps ; then 
there was a swift, sudden movement, a lightning- 
like leap, followed by a heavy splash into the 
water below. 

And in an instant Captain Osmond realized 
what had occurred. 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


245 


The quick jerk of the vehicle had frightened 
the mettlesome horses, and they broke into a mad 
gallop. 

“Stop those horses, will you?” yelled the cap- 
tain, wild imprecations ringing out like bugle 
blasts on the night air. 

The frightened driver did his best, but to add to 
his terror, the reins broke under the terrible ten- 
sion. The horses seized the bits in their mouths, 
and tore the rocking vehicle after them with 
lightning-like rapidity. It soon collided with a 
giant oak at the fork of the road, and a moment 
later Captain Osmond, surrounded by the debris 
of the vehicle, lay face downward by the daisy- 
bordered roadside. 

Nadine had struck near the edge of the water 
in falling, where it was but a few feet deep ; she 
was unhurt, but lay for a moment stunned by the 
fall. 

Her first impulse, as she began to gather her 
scattered senses together, was —flight. To put the 
whole world between the captain and herself, if 


246 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


she could. He would search for her vigorously ; 
he must not find her there when morning broke. 

Struggling to her feet, Nadine pushed on over 
the desolate road. How long, or how far she 
traversed, she never knew ; the sound of voices 
falling on her ear caused her to stop short with 
fear ; glancing directly ahead of her, she beheld 
two men with lanterns in their hands, stooping 
over something lying in the road. 

A voice, which she instantly recognized as the 
driver’s, asked, anxiously : 

“Do you think he is really hurt, Doctor? I 
cannot tell how the accident happened ; it is be- 
yond my comprehension. There is another, — a 
lady, sir, who must be lying somewhere back 
along the road ; we must search for her.” 

They had been engaged in making a rude litter 
of branches, and proceeded to raise the prostrate 
form over which they bent, and placed the injured 
man upon it. 

“Now for the lady,” said the person who was 
presumably a doctor, fortunately living there- 
abouts, who had been hastily summoned by the 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


247 


driver. “I will tell you the truth about the 
gentleman. He has received internal injuries 
from which he cannot possibly recover. He may 
live a week — possibly a month or so, but it means 
death for him by that time, without doubt.” 

Nadine listened almost paralyzed with terror. 

“I have caused his death” she murmured, 
under her breath. “ Heaven pity me ! I never 
meant to do that. I meant only to break away 
from him.” 

She had sunk down on her knees in the long 
grass, her heart too crushed to even sob, and 
kneeling there, a strange and sudden resolve came 
to her. 

If Captain Osmond lay ill unto death, her place, 
as his lawfully wedded wife, no matter how she 
abhorred him, was at his bedside. 

“ I will make what atonement I can,” she 
cried, holding out her white arms to heaven, 
“ for was it not all my fault ?” 

She rose slowly and made her way toward 
them. 

They started back in affright, as they saw the 


248 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


pale, lovely face and the great burning eyes, as 
she approached. 

“My — my — husband!” she gasped. “He is 
badly hurt !” 

“I am afraid so, madame,” replied the bearded, 
kind old doctor, “ but let us thank Heaven that 
you have escaped so terrible a disaster without 
injury. Shelter is close at hand ; we will take 
him to that house, whose chimneys can be easily 
seen through the trees yonder — it is a sort of 
country hostelry.” 

The two men raised the litter to their shoulders, 
and made their way quickly to the house in ques- 
tion, whose inmates, it seemed, had been advised 
previously of their coming. Nadine followed. 

“ Bring the poor gentleman and his lady right 
in, sir,” said the bustling landlady ; “we can 
accommodate you with any number of rooms ; 
more’s the pity of it, now that the new railway 
has taken traffic the other way.” 

“Lead the way then, Mrs. Blake, to your best 
chamber,” said the doctor, impatiently. 

He had taken in the indications of the travellers, 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


249 


and concluded they were amply able to pay for 
the best, which wasn’t much to boast of in those 
surroundings. 

“Can it be possible the gentleman is your hus- 
band exclaimed the landlady. “Why, you 
don’t look much more than a school-girl ; and if 
it isn’t an impertinent question, are you a bride, 
and was this your wedding tour ?” 

“I am over eighteen,” replied Nadine, wearily. 
“ We were married a little over a year ago.” 

Rooms in close proximity were given them, and 
one assigned to the nurse whom the doctor had 
promised to send around. 

‘ ‘ The driver tells me you were travelling for 
two nights past,” said the landlady, kindly laying 
her hand on the girl’s bonny dark curls. “You 
must be eenamosfc tired to death ; lie down and 
take a bit of a sleep while the doctors are with 
your husband ; you couldn’t do any good by his 
bedside, nohow.” 

“ My place is by his bedside,” returned Nadine, 
wearily. “I owe him every attention.” 

All through the long hours of the night Nadine 


250 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


and the good old doctor sat by Captain Osmond’s 
bedside. 

To listen to his ravings was something terrible. 
For hours he would rave about finding some one, 
and when he found them he would crush them 
body and soul. 

Thus it went on for six long and weary weeks, 
while the delirious fever raged with never a lucid 
interval. An hundred times a day the name of 
Nadine was on the captain’s lips — but always 
accompanied with curses so bitter those who 
heard him turned away in dread. 

Nadine’s lips grew very white, and only the 
quivering of the eyelids betrayed she heard the 
words hurled at her. 

“ Perhaps she may love him,” the landlady 
would say, in relating this or that incident to her 
family, “ but for the life of me I cannot see how 
she can. He fairly detests her, judging from his 
talk ; and she, why she sits at his bedside just 
like an angel, God bless her sweet face, tending 
to him and saying never a word. He’s a mighty 
bad man ; I’m sure of it.” 


A DARING ESCAPE. 


251 


At the end of the sixth week the dark clouds 
which had obscured Captain Osmond’s intellect 
shifted, and he woke one morning to a knowledge 
of what was passing about him, and, in a flash, 
remembrance of what had transpired came to 
him. 

“ Have I been ill ?” he exclaimed, harshly, 
gazing in intense amazement upon Nadine as 
though he were greatly amazed at seeing her 
there, which was in fact the truth. 

“You have been very ill,” she answered, “to 
the very gates of death.” 

“ How does it happen -that I find you here with 
me ?” he asked, when they were quite alone. 

“ Because I believed my place was by your side 
while your life hung in the balance,” she 
answered. 

“I do not believe you,” he answered, furiously. 
“Your humiliation and patience is all a mockery. 
More likely you came here to take advantage of 
my illness to poison me to get me out of the way. 
I could sooner believe that than anything else.” 

“ Captain Osmond !” gasped Nadine, recoiling in 


252 


THE MYSTERIOUS EBONY BOX. 


horror at the terrible suspicion he had uttered. 
“ Heaven forgive you for saying anything so 
cruel. I sprang from the carriage to escape you, 
it is true, and was unhurt. I soon discovered that 
the horses ran away with you and you were 
seriously injured. Then I — I felt sorry for you 
and came back to nurse. you.” 

“ You had some object— some scheme. You 
hate me too much to stand by me for duty’s sake, 
as you are pleased to phrase it.” 

“ I am here for duty’s sake, and no other,” she 
returned, calmly. “ If you were out of danger I 
would go quietly away at once.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 

NADINE LEARNS THE CONTENTS OF THE MYSTERIOUS 
EBONY BOX. 

Captain Osmond studied the beautiful, immov- 
able face curiously, muttering that “ the ways of 
women were certainly beyond him.” 

Soon after the doctor entered and Nadine 
retired ; and from the doctor Osmond heard again 
how faithful Nadine had been to him. They all 
told the same story, and at last he was forced to 


THE MYSTERIOUS EBONY BOX. 


253 


believe that it must be true ; and, although he 
sank rapidly during the following week, he 
watched Nadine with a puzzled expression on his 
face in his conscious moments. 

Once when she bent over him to give him his 
medicine, he caught her white hands in a tight 
clasp. 

“Do not draw your hands away, Nadine, ” he 
said. 6 ; I feel that I am dying ; let me clasp your 
hands till — the — last, though you hate me.” 

“I do not hate you, Captain Osmond,” she cor- 
rected gently. Indeed, all her abhorrence had 
melted into pity, seeing this strong man so ill and 
helpless. 

“Thank Heaven for that,” he answered, fer- 
vently. “I am dying, Nadine,” he went on. 
“My short, ungracious life is nearly ended. My 
sins and follies are all over. Listen to me for a 
few moments ; bend your beautiful face lower — 
so — I cannot speak clearly. Nadine, listen. I 
was not always bad. I began life with good in- 
tentions, all great, grand’ and generous hopes. I 
was young, happy, gallant, gay. Oh, for my lost 
youth— my wasted life ! Oh, Nadine, if I might 
but live it over again ; if I might but have time to 
redeem it. 

“ I never thought so much about it, never re- 


254 


THE MYSTERIOUS EBONY BOX. 


gretted it so deeply as when I met you, for, at the 
first glance, my heart went out to you, Nadine ; 
and I vowed to will you, though the very thought 
of linking your bright life to my own checkered 
one made me hesitate. I should have left you 
and never looked upon your face again ; but I 
could not. I should not have forced you to marry 
me. But even then, when I stood revealed to you 
in my true character, I could not give you up. 
Of all the wrong I have done, the cruelest was to 
you in linking your young life with mine. But I 
will atone for it as far as is in my power, Nadine.” 

Then he murmured some words she could not 
catch. 

From that moment on his mind wandered. 

“ Nadine !” he cried, in a loud voice. “I am 
standing on the brink of a deep, dark river. It is 
rolling so swiftly on 1 White faces look at me 
from the waters as they pass by, and the river is 
rising. The dark waters will cover me soon. 
Hark how the vraters rush. They drown my 
voice, and they drown yours, Nadine.” 

She laid her cool, little white hand on his brow, 
and whispered that it was only the wind among 
the trees — the great tall trees in the woods back 
of the house — and tried to soothe him. 

“Nadine,” he whispered, 4 ‘when I am dead 


THE MYSTERIOUS EBONY BOX. 


255 


remember how I love yon. You have been the 
one star of my life. Try and forget how wicked 
and worthless I was. Only remember my great, 
deep, passionate love. I have never heard you 
call me by my name. You have always said ; Cap- 
tain Osmond. ’ Say ‘ George,’ just once. Let me 
hear my name on your lips. Say ‘ George, I for- 
give you all.’ ” 

“ I forgive you all, George,” she answered. 

“Nadine,” he whispered again, after a brief 
interval of silence, “ do you see that little box on 
the mantel ?” 

“Yes,” she said. 

“ Around my neck,” he went on, “you will find 
a silken cord, with the key attached that belongs 
to it. The contents are for you, after I am gone. 
Take the key now, and keep it until then. It 
contains that which I loved best in life before I 
met you. It is yours, Nadine. Say to yourself 
as you raise the lid and examine the contents, 
‘ This is the atonement poor, erring, faulty 
George has made me for spoiling my life.’ You 
will remember V 9 

“ Yes,” she said again, the great tears gather- 
ing in her dark eyes. 

Suddenly the hands that clasped hers relaxed 
their hold. 


256 


THE MYSTERIOUS EBONY BOX. 


“ Nadine! Nadine!” he cried, “save me — the 
river runs on so swiftly !” 

At that moment the doctor and nurse entered, 
but he did not seem to see them. “ Nadine,” he 
whispered, in awful terror, “ the water is rising 
higher — higher — higher — hold me — save me — the 
water has reached my lips. The great cold waves 
are dashing over me, bearing me from you. Oh, 
Nadine ! I cannot see you, dear. I — ” 

The feeble grasp relaxed, his head fell back. 
He had sunk into the dark river that was to bear 
him to the eternal shores. 

“ He is dead,” Nadine heard the doctor say, and 
those were the last words that fell upon her ear 
for three long weeks. When she drifted back to 
consciousness again she found herself in the same 
hospitable hostelry still. 

“We were afraid for a spell that we should 
have two deaths instead of one. You took it so 
hard, poor dear,” said the landlady, smoothing- 
back the lovely curls that strayed over the snow- 
white pillow. 

“We buried him, my dear,” she went on. “We 
had to. You can have him removed if you like, 
though it’s a beautiful spot. We found enough 
in his pockets to pay handsomely for it.” 

The time came at length when Nadine was able 


THE MYSTERIOUS EBONY BOX. 


257 


to sit up, and then she bethought herself of the 
box and the thin silver key that had been given 
her. 

Who shall describe Nadine’s thoughts and emo- 
tions as she opened it, discovering that it con- 
tained bonds and bank notes which amounted to 
a princely fortune, with a will inclosed, bequeath- 
ing all to her. 

“Poor Captain Osmond !” she sobbed, burying 
her face in her hands ; and she thought of his 
words “It was all the atonement he could make 
her for spoiling her young life.” 

The spot was indeed so beautiful where they 
had laid all that was mortal of her erring husband 
that Nadine decided he should rest there, where 
the birds sung and the sun shone : and shortly 
afterwards a costly marble shaft was reared to 
mark the spot where the captain lay sleeping his 
last sleep. 

Once again Nadine took up the thread of life in 
the busy world, and once again a great longing 
came over her to see her old home. It was early 
spring again, and she knew how green the grass 
would be on the shaven lawn at Uplands, and the 
roses in the old-fashioned garden would just be 
budding. 

It was a great surprise for Mrs. Dorchester and 


258 


TIIE MYSTERIOUS EBONY BOX. 


Maud, who were still installed at Uplands, to see 
a carriage draw up to the porch, and a slender 
figure, heavily vailed, but which they instantly 
recognized as Nadine’s, alight, quite alone. 

Mrs. Dorchester’s greeting and Maud’s was very 
warm, but in the next breath they asked for Gil- 
bert Wetherell, saying how surprised they were 
that her husband was not with her. 

They saw Nadine turn as pale as a snowdrop. 
The color faded from her sweet, crimson lips, even 
the color died from her eyes. 

“I may as well tell you what all the world 
must find out sooner or later,” she said, tremu- 
lously. “ Gilbert and I parted some time ago. 
Do not ask me why. I cannot tell you. The 
subject is too painful to me to refer to it in any 
way again.” 

A cry of the greatest astonishment broke from 
Mrs. Dorchester’s lips, and a cry that was certainly 
like suppressed triumph from Maud’s. 

“I felt in my heart that it would come sooner 
or later,” Maud muttered, excitedly, when she 
found herself alone. “They — have — parted! He 
is free again to woo and win whomsoever he will. 
The one great desire of my heart may be mine at 
last, if fate is kind.” 

They did not think strange of Nadine’s indica- 


THE MYSTERIOUS EBONY BOX. 


259 


tions of great wealth, believing that when they 
parted Gilbert had, no doubt, divided his fortune 
with her. 

But why had they parted ? Maud said to herself 
that she should never rest until she found out ; 
that she would make it the business of her life to 
solve the mystery. 

Nadine had longed for a sight of Uplands, but 
everything about the place was so interwoven 
with the memory of Gilbert Wetherell that she 
decided to go away again at once. 

“ I could not endure it here the week out. My 
heart would break,” she thought. 

Nadine concluded that she would like to go to 
Saratoga. She would get a villa there, and re- 
main during the spring and summer ; then go to 
Europe. 

Mrs. Dorchester was delighted when Nadine 
asked her to accompany her as chaperon, and her 
daughter Maud as companion- friend. 

“ Of course I did not like to make the sugges- 
tion, my dear,” said Mrs. Dorchester ; “but it did 
seem to me you were very young indeed to be 
travelling about here and there by yourself. You 
know you are but eighteen now, Nadine — scarcely 
more than a child ; you should always secure an 
elderly lady to travel with you, by all means.” 


260 


THE MYSTERIOUS EBONY BOX. 


A weary smile flickered over the girl’s face. 

“ So very young ! ” 

How odd those words sounded to her. Young ! 
Why, she seemed to have lived a century in the 
last two years ! Yes, she was young, if you 
reckon it by years ; but aged, indeed, if you reck- 
oned by experience. 

“What young girl ever had such a strange, 
terrible life ?” she asked herself often. “ Surely, 
no one living ; no one could have lived through 
it.” 

Mrs. Dorchester was only too pleased when 
Nadine left everything in her hands, and told her 
to make whatever arrangements she liked for 
them. 

The villa was soon in readiness, at Saratoga, 
and they were soon installed there. The place 
was quiet enough in the early spring ; and all too 
soon for Nadine the spring melted into summer, 
and with the summer came the usual influx of 
guests to the gay watering-place, and when the 
June roses bloomed the season was at its height. 

One morning, Maud Dorchester came into 
Nadine’s room with a whirling rush that almost 
took Nadine’s breath away. 

“ Oh, Naddy, Naddy !” she cried, calling her by 
the old familiar name, and pointing breathlessly 


A FERTILE PLOT. 


261 


to an item in the morning Saratogian , which she 
held in her hand, 44 guess who is here — oh, Naddy 
guess.” 

44 Among my dear five hundred friends, how 
could I possibly guess ?” smiled Nadine. 

u Do not faint, or cry out,” exclaimed Maud, 
breathlessly. 4 4 Listen, Nadine. It is — Gilbert 
Wetherell. He is in Saratoga for the whole 
season.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

WHILE HE HAD BEEN SPEAKING, A FERTILE PLOT 
HAD ENTERED MAUD’S BRAIN. 

The vase of roses Nadine has been holding in 
her hands, falls to the floor with a crash ; her 
lovely face pales ; her dark eyes dilate. 

44 Gilbert Wetherell here — in Saratoga?” she 
gasps. 44 Oh, Maud ! is it really true ?” 

44 You can see for yourself,” said Maud, pass- 
ing her the paper. 44 Will that make any differ- 
ence in your plans ?” she adds, anxiously. 

44 If you mean to ask if I intend to leave Sara- 
toga, I answer, 4 No,’ ” returned Nadine, slowly. 

Maud drew a great sigh of relief. It had been 
maddening to her to think of leaving and the sea- 


262 


A FERTILE PLOT. 


son at its height, especially now that Gilbert 
Wetherell was there. 

“I see how this affair will end, Naddy,” she 
said. “ You will make up with Gilbert, and the 
course of true love which has run on so turbu- 
lently will run smoothly once more.” 

“Never l” answered Nadine, paling strangely. 
“ It can never be, Maudie.” 

“If I could but think that, even while I hope 
it,” Maud Dorchester muttered to herself, as 
Nadine abruptly quitted the room. “ A reconcili- 
ation shall never take place if I can prevent it.” 

She would use every endeavor to widen the 
breach between them, she promised herself ; but 
first she must find out, through Wetherell, if she 
could, what had parted them. 

An opportunity presented itself that afternoon. 

Nadine had retired to her room after luncheon 
with a terrible headache, as she said. Maud’s 
eyes readily discerned the traces of tears which 
Nadine had tried so carefully to remove ; but 
through it all there was a gleam of happiness in 
her eyes that had been a stranger to her lovely 
face for many a day. 

Nadine had flung herself on her knees, sobbing 
as though her heart would break, when she found 


A FERTILE PLOT. 


263 


herself alone ; but they were not tears of sorrow 
— they were of joy. 

“I shall soon see my love again,” she mur- 
mured, pressing her little hand tightly over her 
heart. “ Now , thank Heaven, no one stands be- 
tween us !” 

Should she send for him, and, kneeling before 
him, humbly tell him all? Would he ever for- 
give her for keeping so grave and terrible a secret 
from him, and take her back to his heart once 
more, now that no barrier existed between them ? 

A shy, sweet smile came to her lips. It would 
be best for him to come to her, instead of her 
sending for him. He must soon hear of her pres- 
ence in Saratoga. Perhaps he had heard, and 
had followed her there. 

How joyously she went over, in her own mind, 
what their meeting would be like. 

Very soon now, her sorrow would be at an end. 

Suddenly, in the midst of her reverie, there was 
a knock at the door, and in response to her 
‘ 4 Come in!” Maud entered. Nadine could not 
help noticing what pains she had taken with her 
toilet. She wore a carriage dress of cream hunt- 
ing, with a dash of crimson roses at her belt and 
throat, tan driving gloves reaching to the elbow, 
a broad -brimmed, cream straw hat, with white, 


264 


A FERTILE PLOT* 


drooping plumes, and a silken, crimson scarf 
thrown carelessly over her shoulders. 

“ Are you going out for a drive, Nadine?” she 
asked. “ You ordered the coachman to have the 
phaeton at the front porch at four. It is past that 
time. He has been waiting some time for you to 
put in an appearance.” 

“I shall not go to day, Maud,” she answered. 
“ You can drive out to the lake alone, if you 
like.” 

Maud could scarcely restrain her delight at the 
favorable working of the plan she laid out for 
herself. 

“I think I will — that is, if you will not be 
lonely, Nadine,” she added, quickly. 

A few moments later she was bowling over the 
road in the direction of the Grand Union Hotel. 

Suddenly the object of her thoughts, Gilbert 
Wetherell himself,, appeared in sight, walking 
leisurely over the cross-walk. Glancing up he 
saw her. 

“ Miss Dorchester !” he exclaimed, in the 
greatest surprise. “Is it possible !” 

Maud quickly drew rein, and he must have 
been blind not to have noticed how her face 
flushed and her eyes brightened. 

“ Mr. Wetherell !” she exclaimed, in unmis- 


A FERTILE PLOT. 


265 


takable pleasure, entending her hand. 4 4 Why, I 
was just thinking of you. I read in the morn 
ing’s paper you were here.” 

“ Where are you stopping ?” he asked. 

“ Don’t you know?” she questioned, watching 
his face keenly. 

“ How should I ?” he answered, smiling ; add- 
ing, with interest : ‘ ‘ Perhaps you are married, 

Maud, and are here on your wedding trip.” 

“ You have no right to suppose anything of the 
kind, ” she retorted, pale with anger ; and he won- 
dered what in the world there could possibly be in 
his remark to offend her. 

“It is by no means improbable,” he persisted, 
thinking to appease her. “A young lady so 
charming, so graceful as yourself, with so many 
lovers as I remember you to have had about you 
always— why, it was a most natural conclusion 
to arrive at, I assure you, Miss Maud.” 

She turns away, and does not utter the words 
that were trembling on her lips. 

“Will you ride a little way ?” she asked. “I 
want to talk to you.” 

And as Mr. Wetherell is in Saratoga for the 
ostensible purpose of killing time, and thinks he 
will hear through her of Nadine, he readily con- 
sents. 


266 


A FERTILE PLOT. 


She draws aside her skirts, and he takes his 
place beside her. When they are fairly started 
she turns to him, saying, quickly : 

“ When I asked you if it were possible that you 
did not know where and with whom I am stop- 
ping, I thought you knew I was here — with 
Nadine.” 

“ Nadine!” He starts, and for a moment he 
loses all his self-possession, as he says, huskily : 
“ She here! I — I did not know it. I returned 
only yesterday from Europe, and came on here 
from New York at once. Tell me about her, 
Maud.” And the bitterness of death fills her heart 
as she notices his intense interest. 

“ Why should you, who were so willing to part 
from her, care to hear ?” she asks as a leading 
question. 

“ I— willing to part from Nadine?” he repeats, 
hoarsely. “ If any one told you that, or led you 
to believe it, I here and now denounce it as false ! 
Nadine fled from me, without cause or provoca- 
tion. I should have supposed she would have 
made a confidante of you” 

“ To some extent, yes,” answered Maud. 

By very adriot questioning Maud soon dis- 
covered how Nadine had left the letter for him on 


A FERTILE PLOT. 


267 


the green lawn, and had fled — where, or for what 
reason, he knew not. 

“ Did it ever occur to you that Nadine loved 
another in bygone days ? she asked, slowly. 
“ Think well, and answer me.” 

“ I am sure she did not,” he returned, quickly. 
“ She had at one time a girlish infatuation for 
handsome young Osmond, but that soon wore 
away When he was out of sight.” 

While he was speaking quite a fertile plot had 
been revolving in Maud’s brain. 

There had come to Saratoga only the week be- 
fore a young man from Nadine’s native village — 
Mr. Randolph — whom Wetherell had heartily de- 
tested in those old days, because he had openly 
declared that he loved Nadine and meant to win 
her if he could. When her betrothal to Wetherell 
had been formally announced, he left the village 
suddenly, and had never been heard of since by 
his old friends. 

Meeting him at the villa of a friend was quite a 
surprise to Nadine. When he learned she had 
parted from Wetherell his joy knew no bounds, 
and he set about at once to woo and win her, if it 
lay in the power of mortal man. 

Nadine paid no heed to the frequency of his vis- 
its, thinking of him only as the friend of her girl- 


268 


A FERTILE PLOT. 


hood. It never occurred to her that Mrs. Dorches- 
ter and her daughter Maud were encouraging him 
in his evident desire of winning her. 

“It would be a glorious idea to arouse his jeal- 
ousy by leading him to suppose Nadine cares for 
Victor Randolph,” was the thought that had flit- 
ted through Maud’s brain ; and she lost no time 
in executing it. 

She turned to Wetherell with a little odd laugh. 

“There was another,” she said, slowly, “whose 
rivalry you feared quite as much in those old 
days as Captain Osmond’s.” 

“You do not mean Randolph?” he exclaimed, 
abruptly, adding : “I met him on the hotel steps 
a little while since.” 

“ Yes, I refer to Mr. Randolph,” said Maud. “ I 
am sorry to tell you the truth. Nadine cared for 
him in those days when her father stormily in- 
sisted that she should marry you. He visits Lin- 
den Villa — our home — daily. I fear she cares for 
him yet.” 

Wetherell did not cry out. She would never 
know how deeply the iron had entered his soul. 

The poisoned arrows were sent out that were to 
take such deadly effect. Maud Dorchester was 
satisfied with her work when she saw how fully 
he believed her. 


A FERTILE PLOT. 


269 


“ One never knows where to look for a secret 
foe,” he said, slowly. “ I— I— should never have 
thought of him , Maud.” 

“ Shall you seek a reconciliation with Nadine?” 
she asked. 

“ I will find out first if she cares for Ran- 
dolph !” he said, fiercely. “If I find she does , no 
power on earth will induce me to look upon that 
fatally fair face of vhers. I will put the whole 
world between me and all womankind !” 

“Why are you weeping, Maud?” he asked, 
suddenly, as she buried her face in the folds of her 
handkerchief. 

“ Because I am so sorry for you, Gilbert !” she 
sobbed. “Oh ! I pity you so much! How cruel 
a fate that you should have cared for one who 
could not and would not appreciate your great 
worth, preferring instead a handsome, brainless 
fellow like Randolph. I cannot understand it,” 


270 


WE SHALL BE STRANGERS. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

u TELL HER THAT HER WISH SHALL BE OBEYED, 
MAUD. WE SHALL BE HENCEFORTH AS 
STRANGERS.” 

“ I have interceded with Nadine time and again 
in your behalf,” she went on, pathetically, “ but 
all to no purpose. 

“ I have pleaded for you, crying out to her : ‘ If 
Heaven had but sent me such a love how I would 
have cherished it. Gilbert Wetherell is a king 
among men. Oh, Nadine, think how noble he is ! 
A queen might be proud to have his love.’” 

“ Generous girl ! How little I dreamed I had 
such a friend !” he cried, raising the little hand 
that lay idly in her lap, and impulsively pressing 
it to his lips in the deepest gratitude. 

“I feel that I can trust you, Maud,” he said. 
“ I will be frank with you. When first you told 
me Nadine was here I could scarcely restrain the 
impulse to fly to her. Now I can give judgment 
and reason full play. I will watch and see for 
myself if she does in truth care for Randolph.” 

“ And if you are satisfied that she really does ?” 
asked Maud, in a strange, husky whisper. 


WE SHALL BE STRANGERS. 


271 


“ I shall have the bonds that bind her to me 
set aside. She shall be free as air. I shall be the 
same.” 

* ‘ I will do my best to influence her from day 
to day in your behalf, and report to you, when I 
see you, my success.” 

His heart was too full of gratitude to fully 
thank her. 

‘ ‘ I generally take a ramble through Congress 
Park every morning,” she said. “If I should 
meet you on my way there I will report my 
success.” 

She left him at his hotel and drove slowly back 
to the villa. 

Gilbert Wetherell watched her with tears in his 
eyes that were no shame to his manhood, as she 
disappeared from sight, and he murmured : 

“I never knew before what a noble girl Maud 
Dorchester is. How I have misjudged her ! It 
takes a woman to argue and reason with women. 
Heaven grant that she may win my darling over 
to repenting that rash step that caused her to fly 
from me. No matter what prompted it, I could 
forgive her anything save loving another.” 

Maud drove home, her heart in a whirl. Even 
Mrs. Dorchester noticed how red her cheeks were, 
and how unnaturally bright her eyes. 


272 


WE SHALL BE STRANGERS. 


Nadine came eagerly out on the porch to meet 
her. 

“ Have you seen any one, Maudy ?” she asked, 
hoping secretly Maud had seen Gilbert Wetherell 
and told him she was here. 

“ Any one !” repeated Maud, laughing immod- 
erately. “That is rather a strange question to 
ask one coming back from a drive at the most 
famous of watering-places at the most fashionable 
of hours. I have seen most everybody worth 
seeing.” 

Nadine turned away. 

“ If she had seen him she would have mentioned 
it,” she thought. 

The afternoon deepened into evening, and the 
long hours dragged themselves by. Eight o’clock 
chimed from the bronze clock on the marble 
mantel, but the steps Nadine longed for she did 
not hear. 

Mr. Kandolph called in the evening, but noticing 
how distrait Nadine was, he took early leave. 

When daylight broke the next morning it found 
Nadine seated in her low rocker, with her dark, 
curly head bowed on her white hands. She had 
cried herself to sleep. 

Three days passed ; still there was no sign of 
Wetherell’ s coming. 


WE SHALL BE STRANGERS. 


273 


“I shall never send for him,” she murmured, 
proudly. “ If he does not love me well enough to 
come to me and seek a reconciliation, well and 
good.” 

“ Have you forgotten, Nadine,” said Maud, as 
she came down, pale and thoughtful, to breakfast 
one morning, “that this is the evening of Mrs. 
Merrivale’s lawn fete ? I hope you haven’t changed 
your mind about going ?” 

The color flamed up into Nadine’s pale face. 

‘‘You may be sure I have not,” she said, adding, 
haughtily ; “ why should I ?” 

“In all probability Gilbert Wetherell will be 
there,” said Maud, slowly. “ I saw him with Mr. 
Merrivale on the hotel piazza, a day or so ago. 
They must be friends.” 

Nadine could not reply ; her heart beat so 
tumultuously, and her head was in such a whirl. 

“ Lucy,” she said to her maid, when the time 
came for her to begin to dress, “ I want to look 
my very best to-night, do you understand ? Ah, 
Lucy, make me beautiful !” 

“ That will not be hard to do,” replied the girl. 
“ What has madam decided to wear 

“ We will try on my prettiest dresses, and choose 
the one that looks best. Use your best judgment 
to-night, Lucy.” 


274 


WE SHALL BE STRANGERS. 


The girl had been so accustomed to hearing her 
pretty young mistress say, “ Oh, anything will 
do,” that when half-a-dozen of Worth’s most 
peerless treasures had been tried on and discarded, 
she was quite bewildered. 

“ There is the one with the silver flowers, 
madam,” she said. “ I am sure you will look 
like an angel in that.” 

Even Nadine, as critical as she was, could not 
fail to be satisfied with the lovely picture the long 
French mirror reflected, when Lucy bade her, at 
length, “ look in the glass.” She saw reflected, a 
slim, girlish figure, in shimmering white, draped 
over with a cloud of filmy lace, sprinkled with 
tiny silver stars ; beautiful shoulders, like chis- 
eled marble ; a firm white throat, clasped with a 
necklace of diamonds that looked like a river of 
fire in the glow of the gas-jets. 

The dark, curly head seemed to rise from the 
lace-folds on her breast like a graceful flower ; 
nothing could be fairer than the lovely, eager, 
dimpled face lit up by the dark starry eyes. 

White kid-gloves covered the tiny hands, reach- 
ing to the elbows, where the lace sleeves ended. 
The faint color of the superb blush roses she held 
in her hands were not more perfect than the 
dainty bloom on her cheek and lips. 


WE SHALL BE STRANGERS. 


275 


“I think I will do,” she said, turning away 
with a smile. “ You have made me very nice 
indeed, my good girl.” 

Mr. Randolph, who was to escort both Nadine 
and Maud, flushed with pleasure as they entered 
the room. 

“I shall be the envy of every man present,” he 
said, with a low bow. He saw that Miss Dor- 
chester looked charming, and Nadine like an 
houri — a goddess. He had never beheld a more 
beautiful picture. 

They arrived a little late. There was a crush 
in the magnificent reception rooms, but amidst 
all that galaxy of beauty, none looked so fair as 
Nadine. Maud noticed with a thrill of jealousy. 

Eagerly Maud’s eyes roved over the throng of 
gentlemen. Standing very near the door through 
which they had entered, she beheld the object of 
her search, Gilbert Wetherell. His eyes were 
riveted on Nadine and her escort with intense 
pain, which he was vainly endeavoring to sup- 
press. 

At that opportune moment a gentleman 
stepped up to Maud, requesting the pleasure of 
the waltz they were just striking up. 

“Not this waltz, Mr. Annable,” she said. “I 
shall be glad, however, if you would escort me 


276 


WE SHALL BE STRANGERS. 


to the door. I have left my flower and fan in the 
crush-room. 

“ With pleasure,” he said, offering his arm. 

‘‘ Please do not wait for me,” said Maud, as she 
reached the door. “ I see a lady friend whom I 
have not met for some time. I shall in all prob- 
ability stop for a chat. I shall not forget to 
return in time for our waltz,” she added, archly. 

With a gallant bow he left her and sauntered 
away. He would have been amazed had he 
turned around — for he would have seen Miss Dor- 
chester re-enter the room immediately and join 
Gilbert Wetherell. 

“ I have been waiting for an opportunity to see 
you, Maud,” he said, eagerly. “ Will you go out 
into the conservatory, or into the grounds V* 

“We will go out into the grounds,” she said; 
“the night is excessively warm.” 

How fragrant and beautiful it was out in the 
rose garden under the light of the golden- hearted 
stars ! 

Silently they made their way through the 
groups strolling about the grounds toward one of 
the fountains whose dashing spray changed to 
crimson, royal purple and gold under the varie- 
gated calcium light. 

Gilbert Wetherell found Maud a seat under the 


WE SHALL BE STRANGERS. 


277 


drooping branches of a flowering magnolia, taking 
his place beside her. 

“Now, Maud,” he said, “tell me that which I 
am most impatient to hear. How have you suc- 
ceeded in your task of winning Nadine’s consent 
to allow me to call upon her, and do my best to 
win her back to my heart ?” 

Maud’s face drooped upon her breast. 

“ For the second time in my life I am so unfor- 
tunate as to bear you sorrowful news,” she said. 
“I cannot but tell you frankly the exact truth. 
Despite all my pleadings, Nadine refuses to listen 
to a reconciliation. 4 Give him this message for 
me,’ she said : “That I will feel obliged to him if 
he will cease persecuting me. Say to him : The 
past is past. The further he holds aloof from me, 
the better I shall be pleased.’ ” 

Gilbert Wetherell had risen slowly to his feet 
and stood before her, pale as death. Every word 
had been like the thrust of a dagger through his 
heart. 

He was a man strong of will and of purpose. 
He did not cry out or utter any moan. Only his 
white, haggard face, which seemed to have grown 
years older in a single moment of time, told how 
he suffered. 

“ Tell her that her wish shall be obeyed, Maud,” 


278 


FOR THE OLD LOVERS SAKE. 


he said, slowly. “ I shall never address one word 
voluntarily to her. If we meet, it shall be as per- 
fect strangers. She has stung my pride— my man- 
hood — to the death.” 

“ You will not think unkindly of me, I hope, for 
being forced to bring you so cruel a message, ” she 
said, sighing tremulously ; “ for, I— oh, I would 
have given my — my life to have seen you happy, 
Mr. Wetherell.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

u FOR THE OLD LOVE’S SAKE.” 

Gilbert Wetherell never thought of attaching 
the least importance to her words, he was so en- 
grossed in thinking of Nadine. Seeing this, Maud 
repeated, softly : 

“I am so sorry for you, Mr. Wetherell ! So 
sorry !” 

“ I am man enough to meet the blow,” he said, 
hoarsely ; “ but I confess to you my hopes have 
been dashed from heaven to earth. You are 
chilly,” he added, abruptly. 4 4 Pray allow me to 
escort you back to the house.” 

This finale to the interview was certainly not 


“for the old love’s sake.” 


279 


what Maud had hoped for, but there was no help 
for it. There was this much of an advantage 
gained— she had widened the breach between him 
and Nadine. Their love for each other, under her 
skillful management of the affair, would in time 
turn to hatred ; and in the end she w^ould catch 
Gilbert Wetherell’s heart in the rebound. 

“ You must never despair, Gilbert,” she said, at 
parting. “ I will still do my best to win her over, 
and will report to you my success from time to 
time as I see you.” 

The poor fellow caught at the slightest straw 
of hope. 

“ You are, indeed, an angel, Maud,” he replied, 
gratefully. “ If I see you riding by, if you have 
no objection, I will join you occasionally, and we 
will talk the matter over.” 

“ With pleasure,” answered Maud. 

He turned away, and was soon lost to sight 
amidst the vast throng of revellers. 

That was an evening that stood out alone in 
Nadine’s life. It was, perhaps, the most miser- 
able she ever experienced. She had not been long 
in the ball-room ere she discovered Gilbert 
Wetherell ; but much to her dismay, although 
she vras sure he saw her, he did not come near 
her. 


280 


FOR THE OLD LOVE’S SAKE.” 


“ I will show him that I do not care,” muttered 
Nadine ; and those to whom she was cold and 
proud a little while since, she was all that was 
gay, charming and coquettish to now. She would 
show him that others appreciated her even if he 
did not. 

A dozen times they passed each other in the 
two hours that followed, and once in the waltz 
quadrille they were in the same set. Nadine told 
herself had it happened that she would have been 
obliged to have waltzed with Gilbert she should 
have fallen back in his arms in a dead faint. 

Only Heaven knew what an effort it was for 
her to keep up the wit and repartee, for her heart 
was breaking. 

Twice she was quite alone when Gilbert passed 
her, and she certainly thought he would take ad- 
vantage of it by coming up to her, but he did not. 

She would have given the world to have gone 
up to him, and said : 

“ Oh, Gilbert, take me avray from the lights 
and the music ! Give me an opportunity and I 
will explain all. I made a fatal mistake, but it 
was through no fault of mine.” 

But as he passed her he did not even so much 
as turn his face toward her. 

She read coldness — pride — in those averted 


FOR THE OLD LOVe’s SAKE.” 


281 


eyes ; and as the evening wore on, they became 
more and more estranged. 

Nadine had thrown herself body and soul into 
her reckless flirtation with handsome Victor Ran- 
dolph. 

“He shall see that' others appreciate me even 
though he does not,” she murmured, desperately. 

And with this object in view, she smiled so 
graciously on her admirers, handsome Mr. Ran- 
dolph in particular, that he was transported to 
the seventh heaven. 

“As false as she is fair,” muttered Gilbert 
Wetherell, looking on with gloomy eyes. 

Mirth and gayety was at its height when, an 
hour later, in passing through the music-room, she 
felt her arm clasped by two slender, white hands. 
It was Miss Alice Merrivale, her host’s daughter, 
whose bright blue eyes looked laughingly into her 
own. 

“Don’t leave the music room so soon,” said 
Alice. 4 ‘ One of the gentlemen present has just 
consented to sing. Come up to the piano and 
hear him and glancing back, amidst a group of 
young gentlemen and pretty girls, she saw Gilbert 
Wetherell. 

“ No,” panted Nadine, “let me go, Alice. I am 
going in search of Miss Dorchester and her escort, 


282 


“ FOR THE OLD LOVE’s SAKE.” 


with whom I came, to — to take me home. I— I 
don’t feel very well.” 

“ Nonsense,” retorted Miss Merrivale. “ Brace 
up. We cannot think of losing the queen of the 
lawn fete when the affair is at its height. Come, 
listen to one song. Then, if you insist, I will let 
you go.” 

Although Nadine persisted against it, she moved 
very reluctantly toward the group surrounding 
Gilbert. He had been declaring he could not sing 
— he had too bad a cold ; but when he saw Nadine 
approaching, with a strange expression on his 
handsome face, he changed his mind at once. 

“Your persuasions have conquered, young 
ladies,” he said, in a low voice, seating himself at 
the piano. “ Now, what shall it be ?” 

“ Your favorite song,” chorused all the young 
girls in a breath. 

He bowed. 

“My favorite it shall be, then,” he said, giving 
Nadine a meaning look that expressed volumes. 

A dead silence fell over the occupants of the 
music-room as Gilbert Wetherell ran his white, 
shapely fingers over the keys. The wind stirred 
among the crimson roses that tossed their fra- 
grant blooms against the open casement near 
where she stood, and even the brilliant pendants 


FOR THE OLD LOVE’S SAKE.” 


283 


of the chandeliers seemed to tremble as his deep, 
melodious voice thrilled through the room. 

As the first lines fell from his impassioned lips 
Gilbert Wetherell could not resist the impulse to 
raise his eyes to Nadine’s face ; then he lowered 
the white lids over his scorching eyes, and never 
raised them again until he had finished ; and 
these were the words he sang : 

“ And have you quite forgot me, dear ? 

Oh, say, do you sometimes dream 

What life might have been if we wandered still 
Together by wood and stream ? 

Do you think of days when my love was all 
The world could give or take ? 

Do you say, with a sigh, they were happy days, 

Just for the old love’s sake ? 

“ Do you ever sit in the twilight, dear, 

And think of that other day 

• When we met, and parted, and journeyed forth, 

Each on our separate way ? 

I turned and stood for a moment, dear, 

And looked in your face to take 

Its memory far on my way through life, 

Just for the old love’s sake. 

“ Do you ever think they were bitter words, 

Their memory haunts me yet. 

Do you wonder how you could say farewell, 

And wonder if I forget ? 

Dear, my heart has forgiven — 

Forgiven long ago, tho’ at first I thought ’t would 
break ; 

And whenever I think, it is kindly still, 

Just for the old love’s sake.” 


284 


FOR THE OLD LOVE S SAKE/ 


“ Delightful ! Charming !” chorused the bevy 
of young ladies that had crowded around him. 
“ Won’t you favor us with another song, Mr. 
Wetherell ? Only one more song, please,” they 
persisted. 

Nadine could not have uttered one word more 
to save her life. Those thrilling w r ords — “ for 
the old love’s sake” — seemed to have dazed her 
senses, paralyzed her heart. Like one in a dream, 
she stood leaning against the piano. She knew 
every word of Gilbert’s song was intended as an 
impassionate appeal to her. Did he intend it to 
express a bold hope — the hope that those two 
hearts which Heaven intended for each other 
might be reunited? Or was he trifling with her? 

She took one step forward, turning her crimson 
face away as she tried to pass him with a haughty 
step and careless, indifferent demeanor. Then 
the room seemed to whirl around her. She 
threw up her white hands with a gasp, and would 
have fallen in a dead faint to the floor had not 
Gilbert Wetherell sprung forward just in time to 
catch her in his arms. 

“Oh, my ! she has fainted !” cried Alice Merri- 
vale, in the greatest dismay. “ She said she was 
too ill to stay and listen to the music, but I 
insisted. It is all my fault. I will go and find 


“for the old love’s sake.” 


285 


Miss Dorchester, her cousin, at once. Meanwhile 
somebody please ring the bell for one of the 
servants to carry her up to my boudoir. She will 
soon revive.” 

Some ten minutes later Nadine opened her eyes, 
to find Maud Dorchester and Alice Merrivale 
standing over her. 

“ Are you better, dear ?” said Alice, anxiously. 
“ We thought you would never come out of that 
swoon.” 

By a violent effort Nadine controlled herself. 

“ Thank you, dear ; I am all right now,” she 
said, with a forced, gay laugh. “Don’t trouble 
yourself about me any more, I beseech you.” 

“Shall I order the carriage?” asked Maud. 
“ Would you like Mr. Randolph to take us home ?” 

“No, indeed,” declared Nadine, with haughty, 
flashing eyes. “ I shall not leave when the fete 
is at its height. Go down into the garden— both 
of you. I will join you presently. I see all the 
guests are promenading in the grounds just now.” 

Thus admonished, they reluctantly quitted the 
room, and left Nadine by herself. 

“ He meant to taunt me,” she sobbed, clutching 
her little hands tightly together, “but I will 
show him that I do not care. I will be the gayest 
of the gay. He shall not believe that he has the 


286 


“ FOR THE OLD LOVE’S SAKE.” 


power to stir my heart to its very core at his 
slightest word.” 

She crossed over, and stood by the lace -draped 
window, gazing at the fairy scene below. The 
musicians were out on the lawn now ; and she 
noticed idly most, if not all, of the guests were in 
the grounds. They had forsaken the heated 
rooms for the star light and the rose bowers. 

As Nadine turned to quit the room to join them, 
her flowing lace sleeve caught on the ruby shade 
of a fairy lamp on the table near her. In an instant 
of time, the filmy lace had ignited and spread to 
the curtains ; and Nadine, standing half paralyzed 
with horror, stood at the window, wrapped in a 
winding sheet of flame. 

She tried to run forward, but at the first step 
the thick smoke in a dense volume confronted 
her. The carpets, the curtains, the portieres, had 
ignited in a flash, and she was driven back toward 
the window. 

“ Help !” she cried, falling on her knees by the 
window. “ For the love of Heaven, save me !” 


I WILL SAVE YOU, NADINE. 


287 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

“ I WILL SAVE YOU, NADINE, OR DIE WITH YOU f’ 

In an instant the most intense excitement, 
amounting to a panic, prevailed. The cry of fire 
rang out simultaneously from an hundred throats. 

Mad revelry and gayety, which were at their 
height, turned into an instantaneous scene of 
terror, as the gay throng, which had assembled 
at the garden party, lifted their eyes, and saw the 
girlish figure at the window, with its background 
of raging flames. 

“ Oh, Heaven ! Look ! It is Nadine ! ” gasped 
Maud Dorchester. “ Save her, oh, for the love of 
Heaven, save her ! Save her !” 

Gilbert Wetherell, who had been standing on 
the porch, hastened down into the grounds as he 
saw the commotion. He had raised his eyes to 
the terrible scene just as Maud’s piercing shriek 
broke the paralyzing stillness, and in horror, which 
words are weak in describing, he had recognized 
Nadine, and realized her peril. 

Even as he looked, a cloud of blinding smoke 
hid the lovely, white, terrified face from his view. 


288 “ I WILL SAVE YOU, NADINE.” 

With a mighty cry, Wetherell sprang forward 
with a face pale as death. 

In an instant of time, he was bounding 
through the blinding smoke and flames which, by 
this time, had crept to the silken hangings in the 
corridor, toward the room in which Nadine was — 
in such peril. 

“ Nadine ! Nadine !” he called, wildly, intent 
upon locating the right room. 

But there was no answer. 

Had the smoke and the flames already done 
their fatal work ? The very thought tortured him 
to madness. 

“ Nadine, in Heaven’s name, answer !” he cried. 

And in the interval of breathless suspense that 
followed, the silence remained unbroken, save by 
the fierce crackling of the flames which were 
spreading with alarming velocity. 

To his bewilderment and dismay, he found 
three doors near together. 

Which door led to the room in which Nadine 
was ? One after the other he attempted to, fling 
them open. To his horror he found all three 
securely fastened. 

4 ‘ Heaven direct me to the right one !” he 
breathed hoarsely, selecting the centre door, and, 


289 


“i WILL SAVE YOU, NADINE.” 

setting his shoulder to the panel, strove, with 
strength born of wild despair, to force the lock. 

A flood of light broke through the smoke in the 
interior of the room, and applying his eye to the 
keyhole, Gilbert Wetherell saw a sight that froze 
the blood in his veins— a sight he never forgot 
while his life lasted. 

Nadine was lying prone upon the velvet carpet 
in the centre of the room, her face upturned, and 
white as chiseled marble, and within an arm’s 
length of that lovely face the deadly flames were 
creeping, on the pile of the velvet rugs. 

A terrible cry broke from Wetherell’s lips — the 
cry of a strong man in mortal anguish. In vain 
he flung himself against the massive door, for 
now the thick volumes of smoke had shut out 
the terrible sight from his frantic gaze. 

He redoubled his herculean efforts, throwing 
himself against the door like one mad. One 
moment more, and Nadine would be beyond all 
mortal aid. 

That thought seemed to lend him double 
strength. Blow after blow fell thick as hail upon 
the panels of the oaken door. The blows were 
beginning to tell ; the door quivered slightly, then 
fell in with a terrible crash, one of the heavy 
oaken splinters turning aside and making a dan- 


290 


“ I WILL SAVE YOU, NADINE.” 

gerous gash in Wetherell’s head as he fell in with 
them. 

He was on his feet in an instant, despite the 
terrible pain of his wound, and reached Nadine’s 
side in the very instant the flames had claimed 
her for their prey. 

Snatching her from the very jaws of death, and 
catching up one of the rugs, which he hastily 
wrapped about her, Wetherell attempted to make 
his way out into the corridor with his pi’ecious 
burden, but the fierce onslaught of the flames 
drove him back. 

“ My God!” he murmured, hoarsely, as he 
reeled back into the room, “ I fear we will perish 
together !” 

Ah ! how thankful he was in that dread 
moment that Nadine was unconscious of her peril. 

Wetherell realized that there was but one 
means of escape, and that was by the window. 

How they cheered him as he appeared in sight 
with his burden clasped close in his arms ; then 
the cheers died on their lips as they saw the 
wound over his white temple, from which the 
crimson life-blood was oozing. 

No time had been lost in securing a ladder, 
which had just been set in place. 

Wetherell stepped down upon the first rung, 


I WILL SAVE YOU, NADINE. 


29J 


clasping his burden closely ; but in attempting to 
descend, the terrible faintness which he was suf- 
fering from the wound almost overcame him. 
The ladder seemed swaying to and fro beneath his 
feet, like a boat on the waves of a heavy sea, and 
the throngs of upturned faces, which he had 
caught but a fleeting glimpse of, seemed to be 
whirling around him, and a great roaring filled 
his ears, like the rushing of far-off waters. 

“ Heaven give me strength to reach the ground 
with my darling in safety !” he muttered, with a 
gasp. 

How far down the ladder he had descended he 
did not know. Suddenly his hands relaxed their 
hold, and to the horror of the breathless throng 
watching down below, he swayed from side to 
side, and fell headlong from the ladder. 

If the group of gentlemen holding the ladder 
had not instantly stretched out their arms, as he 
took the last faltering step, a terrible catastophe 
might have been recorded ; as it was, thank 
Heaven, they caught the whirling figure, and as 
they laid him down on the grass, took the pre- 
cious burden he had endangered his own life to 
save from the flames, from his arms. 

“ Is the lady injured ?” cried Victor Randolph, 


292 


“i WILL SAVE YOU, NADINE.” 

pressing forward through the crowd that sur- 
rounded them. 

“ No, she has only swooned,” replied one of the 
gentlemen present. 

Randolph lost no time in calling his carriage, 
and he and Maud had Nadine conveyed to Linden 
Villa at once. 

The grand lawn fete broke up in confusion, and 
in the confusion some friend removed Gilbert 
Wetherell. 

When Nadine opened her eyes she found her- 
self in her own blue and gold boudoir at home, 
with Maud bending over her. 

“ Is it a dream — or — or— a reality, Maud ?” she 
cried, starting up in terror — “ the awful fire ! I 
remember it now ! Who saved me ?” 

“ It was indeed a terrible reality, Nadine,” 
replied Miss Dorchester, adding, artfully: “Mr. 
Randolph saved you. You would have perished 
but for him.” 

She told the falsehood unblushingly, standing 
her chances of Nadine’s finding out to the con- 
trary. 

“ Did the house burn down, Maudy ?” she asked, 
burying her dark, curly head in the pillow with a 
shudder. 

“No,” replied Maud; “the fire was put out 


293 


“ I WILL SAVE YOU, NADINE.” 

without so very much damage, but of course it 
broke up the lawn fete.” 

Scores of friends called the following morning 
to inquire after Nadine, and though they did not 
see her, they heard through Miss Dorchester that, 
“ though her nerves were considerably shaken 
up, she was otherwise as well as ever, thanks to 
youth and a good constitution.” 

That evening, much to Maud’s consternation, 
Gilbert Wetherell called. 

“ I have put a bold face on the matter, and 
despite Nadine’s declaration ‘ that we were to be 
as strangers henceforth,’ I have come in person 
to make one more attempt toward a reconciliation, 
believing that she will not refuse me now” he 
said, smilingly, hopefully, to Maud. “Why do 
you weep, Maud,” he asked surprisedly. 

“ Because it seems to fall to my lot to give you 
messages that must grieve you.” 

“ Nadine anticipated this visit, and forestalled 
it with a message to me ?” he asked, quickly. 

“Yes,” faltered Maud, hiding her face in the 
folds of her lace handkerchief ; “but, oh, am I 
really to tell you what she desired me to say 
to you ?” 

“ Certainly,” he replied, looking at her in a 
puzzled way. “ Why not ?” 


294 : “ I WILL SAVE YOU, NADINE.” 

44 Well, if you must hear, Nadine said, scarcely 
an hour ago : 4 If Gilbert Wetherell calls I am not 
at home to him, remember, Maudy. I — I — would 
rather have died,’ she added vehemently, 4 than 
owe my life to him !’ ” 

He rose instantly from his chair. 

4 4 There is such a thing as the deepest love 
turning to hate, Maud,” he said, huskily, 44 and I 
verily believe in this hour I am learning to hate 
Nadine even as I have loved her. I am only 
mortal. My pride has received too great a blow 
to forget lightly this uncalled-for insult. She is 
even more heartless than I thought her.” 

44 Oh, do not speak harshly of her, Gilbert,” 
murmured Maud, simulating the deepest sorrow, 
still hiding her face in the folds of her handker- 
chief, delighted that he could not read the triumph 
in her eyes. 

And even in that moment, though he spoke so 
harshly of Nadine, he was grateful to Maud for 
defending her. 

44 You will give her my reply, Maud,” he said. 
44 Add that she may never be afraid of my troub- 
ling her in future.” 

44 You must not despair, Gilbert,” she said, 
extending her little white hand to him at parting. 
44 Remember, you have a friend in the fort, so to 


295 


U I CANNOT TELL YOU.” 

speak, who is ever on the alert to patch up the 
breach between you and Nadine. I will report to 
you faithfully from time to time the success I 
meet with. I have no doubt of ultimate success.” 

Can it be wondered, with this hope in view — 
for he loved Nadine with all his heart— that he 
was drawn into making an appointment with 
Maud? He was only. too glad to acquiesce in all 
her plans. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

“i CANNOT TELL YOU WHAT PARTED US.” 

On the second day after the accident at the 
lawn fete Nadine was standing by the lace-draped 
window of her room, looking thoughtfully out 
into the sunlit garden, deeply engrossed in 
thought. 

Maud sat near her, engaged in some pretty 
trifling fancy work. For some time Maud con- 
templated Nadine in silence and curiosity. At 
length she said, gayly : 

“A penny for your thoughts, Naddy. Why, 
there are actually tears in your eyes.” 

Nadine turned to her slowly. 

“I am thinking of my — of Gilbert Wetherell,” 
she said, “ and wondering that he did not have 


296 


I CANNOT TELL YOU. 


« 




enough interest in my welfare to call and see if I 
were ill or not, after all that I passed through ; 
for, of course, he must know of it, being at the 
lawn fete himself that night.” 

“There’s no accounting for the ways of men,” 
sighed Maud. “ They’re quick to fall in love, and 
just as quick to fall out of it again. Take my 
advice and learn to forget him, Naddy. I wish,” 
she continued, dropping her work and coming 
quickly to Nadine’s side, “ that you would tell me 
frankly just what parted you and Gilbert Weth- 
erell. Then I could judge if there was any hope 
of a reconciliation between you two.” 

Nadine shuddered, as though the words chilled 
her to the heart like an icy blast. 

“ I can only answer as I answered you once be- 
fore, Maud,” she said, faintly. “ I— I — cannot 
tell you wTiat parted us. Please don’t speak of it. 
That is the one chapter of my life that I wish I 
could forget.” 

Maud bit her lip with vexation. Whatever the 
mysterious secret was, Nadine certainly intended 
keeping it locked within her own breast. 

Two days later the crowning event which 
stabbed Nadine to the heart happened. She was 
driving alone in her natty little phaeton towards 
the Vichy Springs, thinking, as usual, of Gilbert 


297 


“ I CANNOT TELL YOU.” 

Wetherell, when suddenly, from round an ab- 
rupt curve in the road, the object of her thoughts 
loomed in sight directly before her, on horseback. 

For one instant the earth and sky seemed to 
meet before Nadine’s startled eyes. This was the 
first time they had met each other— alone — since 
the day fate had torn them so cruelly asunder. 

Would he stop her and speak ? Ah, of course 
he would. He could never let such a golden op- 
portunity as this escape him if there was one 
spark of the old love left in his heart. And 
should she confess all to him, and cry out, “ Oh, 
Gilbert, take me back ! Give me your love again, 
or my heart will break !” 

But no. The first overtures must come from 
him not her. She must remain silent until he 
spoke. It was encouragement enough for him 
that she involuntarily slackened her pony’s pace. 

Nearer, nearer came Wetherell. He was abreast 
of the little phaeton now, and for one brief in- 
stant the dark eyes and the blue ones met. 

The poor fellow’s heart gave a great, tumul- 
tuous throb. Great Heaven ! it was Nadine— his 
darling. 

His strong grasp tightened on the bridle, and in 
that instant those words recurred to hijj^ which 
had been like a dagger in his heart by night and 


298 “i CANNOT TELL YOU.” 

by day ever since he had heard them — “If we 
ever meet again, let it be as strangers.” 

In that moment all his pride rose to the rescue. 
No matter what it cost him, it should be as she 
decreed. He glanced at her calmly, and with all 
the coldness which he could summon to his coun- 
tenance, and, without even a nod of recognition, 
touched his mettlesome horse lightly with his 
whip, and went skimming down the road like an 
arrow. 

“Am I mad or dreaming?” muttered Nadine, 
with a great, tearless sob. “ He passed me by, 
as though he did not know me. He wishes me 
tacitly to understand the past is past between us.” 

She turned her pony’s head quickly homeward. 
Mrs. Dorchester and Maud, who were sitting in 
the cozy morning room, looked up as she passed 
the open door. They both cried out in alarm, as 
they caught sight of her white, colorless face. 

“ Are you ill, Nadine?” they both called out in 
one breath. 

“ 111? — yes, ill unto death,” she answered, with 
so wild a laugh that they both sprang to their feet 
and hastened to her side. 

“What is the matter, Nadine, my dear?” said 
Mrs. Dorchester, hurriedly; “your face looks 
like a ghost’s, and your hands are burning hot.” 


299 


“ I CANNOT TELL YOU.” 

“I want to leave Saratoga at once,” sobbed 
Nadine, wretchedly; u to-day— at the earliest 
possible hour.” 

“ I thought you liked it here. What in the 
world could have made you take such a dislike to 
the place so suddenly ?” 

Before Nadine could reply, Maud put in, sus- 
piciously : 

“ Did you meet Gilbert Wetherell, Nadine ?” 

“Do not question her, Maud,” said Mrs. Dor- 
chester, giving her daughter a warning look, 
which said, as plainly as eyes could speak : 
“ Never mind prying into the matter now ; we 
will find out all about it in good time.” 

“ I am going to leave Saratoga as soon as I can 
pack up, and get out of it,” repeated Nadine, des- 
perately. 

“Oh, Nadine,” sobbed Maud, “we were just 
commencing to enjoy ourselves here so much. ” 

4 ‘ You can remain if you like,” she returned, 
quickly. “I am not so selfish as to take you 
away from here at the height of the season. Stay 
here with your mother, by all means.” 

Maud could scarcely repress her delight. 

“ But where could you go, and alone, Naddy?” 
she asked, in apparent deep concern. 


300 “i CANNOT TELL YOU.” 

“ It does not matter much where I go,” replied 
Nadine, with a wretched attempt to keep back 
her tears. 

That afternoon, when the afternoon express 
rolled out of the gay watering-place, it took with 
it poor, misguided Nadine, 

Early the next morning, as Aunt Hester was 
superintending the feeding of the poultry in the 
spacious ground of thrifty Glen Farm, she was 
amazed to see the wicket gate at the end of the 
lane slowly open, and Nadine walk up the plank 
path. 

“ Goodness gracious, my dear, is it really you?” 
she cried, dropping her basket of snowy crumbs 
in a flutter. “How you do love to take a body 
clean by surprise ! I thought you was up at that 
gay watering-place, Saratoga, enjoying yourself 
with the Dorchesters !” 

“ I was there — but not enjoying myself, Aunt 
Hetty,” said Nadine, sadly. 

“ Then what did you go there for ?” demanded 
her aunt. 

“ To forget, amidst brilliant scenes, my sorrow 
if I could ; but it was all useless — useless,” replied 
Nadine. 

“ You will find it dull enough here, Til war- 
rant,” declared Aunt Hester, taking her niece 


301 


“ I CANNOT TELL YOU.” 

into the quaint, old-fashioned “ best room,” and 
helping her off with her wrap and pretty hat with 
its drooping plumes, marveling meanwhile how 
pate she looked. 

“Naddy,” she said, as they sat down on the 
moonlit porch that night, “ I want you to confide 
in me— to tell me why you left Gilbert Wetherell.” 

Nadine shook her head, but her aunt pursued : 

“ There must be no secrets between you and 
me, dear. Your little heart will break carrying 
the weight of that sorrow all by yourself. You 
don’t know how it enlightens grief to have some 
one to share it with you, and to help you plan for 
the future.” 

Nadine threw herself sobbingly into her aunt’s 
arms, and then and there, with her head on that 
faithful breast, acknowledged that it was being 
parted from Gilbert that was wrecking her w^hole 
life — but no persuasion could draw from her lips 
the truth as to why she did it. 

“ For I am sure it must have been your doing, 
my dear. Gilbert was too fond of you to have 
ever left you. I hope you did not commence by 
getting jealous of some old sweetheart, perhaps, 
or anything like that.” 

Nadine shook her dark, curly head. 

“ Well, what fault could you find with him ?” 


302 “i CANNOT TELL YOU.” 

persisted her aunt, determined to get at the root 
of their quarrel. 

“ I found no fault whatever with him, aunt,” 
she declared. “ He was simply perfection.” 

“ You had no little difference — no little lover’s 
spat — as they call it ?” 

Again Nadine shook her curly head in dissent. 

“ Then it is my opinion that this little difficulty 
between you can be easily adjusted,” Aunt Hester 
said, gayly. 

“Indeed, you are mistaken, aunt,” replied 
Nadine. “Gilbert has learned to hate me now, 
even as he once loved me.” 

“What makes you think that?” questioned 
Aunt Hester. 

And, never dreaming what the consequence 
would be, Nadine related how she had met him 
face to face at the lawn fete at Saratoga before 
the fire ; how she had been saved by another, and 
how he had not had interest enough in her wel- 
fare to inquire whether the accident had been 
fatal to her, or not, and, lastly, how she had met 
him alone on the road while driving, and how he 
had actually turned his head away. 

“ If everything happened just as you tell it, 
Nadine, all I have to say is, Gilbert Wetherell 
must have changed wonderfully from the man I 


WATCHING AND WAITING IN VAIN. 


303 


once knew. I cannot help but believe there is 
some terrible mistake somewhere, something I 
don’t understand, I do wish I could have a talk 
with Gilbert, and find out for myself just where 
this difficulty is. I will see him.” 

Nadine sprang up from the hassock at her feet, 
where she had been sitting with her curly head 
on her aunt’s knee. 

“ Never do that, Aunt Hester!” she cried, 
breathlessly. “ I would never forgive you while 
I lived, if you did. Let him go. I — I can live 
without him. He has wounded my pride too 
deeply to ever forget and forgive.” 

Although Aunt Hester agreed to drop the mat- 
ter, in her own mind she was more determined 
than ever to find out what the trouble was, and 
re-unite these two, if it lay within her power. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

WATCHING AND WAITING IN VAIN. 

On the day following Nadine’s departure from 
Saratoga, Maud met Gilbert Wether ell walking 
moodily through Congress Park, and by a few 
skillfully worded questions she soon drew from 


304 


WATCHING AND WAITING IN VAIN. 


him how he had met Nadine on her way to the 
springs on the day before, and the effort it had 
cost him to pass her by, as she had desired. 

“I have a new plan to propose, Gilbert,” she 
said. “Come to the villa as though you were 
coming apparently to see me. Sooner or later you 
will be sure to run across Nadine in the parlor or 
the halls or garden, and when you do, catch her 
by the little white hands, then and there, and 
refuse to let them go until she has promised to 
care for you again.” 

Gilbert was only too eager to grasp at the sug- 
gestion, and he was more thankful than ever to 
Maud for allowing him to call upon her that he 
might have the opportunity of meeting Nadine in 
her own parlor alone. 

He embraced the privilege that very eveningo 

Maud’s welcome was warm indeed. He could 
not help but notice how charming she looked in 
her white mull dress, with its mauve sash and 
dainty satin bows. 

“ Were you expecting company, Maud ?” he 
asked. “ If so, do not let me detain you one mo- 
ment. I will go at once.” 

“Why, no, I am expecting no one,” she an- 
swered. “ What in the world made you inquire 
that ?” 


WATCHING AND WAITING IN YAIN. 


305 


He could not reply : “ Judging from the man- 
ner in which you have gotten yourself up, as for 
some special occasion,” but simply answered, 
gallantly : 

“It would be the most natural thing in the 
world to suppose you had plenty of admirers call- 
ing upon you these delightful afternoons and 
evenings, and in that case I would he de trop” 

“By no means,” declared Maud. “I should 
prefer talking to you — ” 

She stopped short in evident confusion. 

If he had not been the thoughtless gentleman 
that he was, he must have attached some mean- 
ing to her words. As it was, his heart warmed 
gratefully toward her for doing her best to put 
him at his ease in Nadine’s home. 

“Now, as you are my guest, I must do my best 
to entertain you,” she declared, archly. “I will 
sing you some of Nadine’s songs ; you will like 
that !” 

“ Sing Nadine’s and your own, too, Maud,” he 
replied, gallantly. 

“ I have not forgotten your passionate love of 
music,” she said, smiling, “ or — or your favorite 
selections.” 

If Maud possessed one great gift above all 
others, it was for singing beautiful, pathetic 


306 WATCHING AND WAITING IN VAIN. 

ballads ; and to-night she exerted herself to please, 
as she never exerted herself in her whole life to 
please before. 

It had been often laughingly said of her, that 
her music had the power of luring a man’s heait 
from his breast almost, it was so entrancing, 
so soul-stirring ; but glancing up at him from 
beneath her drooping lashes as she sang some 
impassioned love passage, she could not see that 
he was even listening. 

“ He has not heard me,” she thought, stopping 
short. “ His thoughts are with Nadine, not w r ith 
me.” 

She was quite right. He was doing his best to 
seem interested, as in duty bound ; but his 
thoughts would wander to Nadine, and he was 
vaguely wondering if he would see her that even- 
ing, or if his visit would be useless. 

For a week or more he called each day at 
Linden Villa, until at length hope began to die 
out. He never so much as caught a glimpse of 
Nadine. 

“ It is plainly apparent she is avoiding me, and 
will avoid me on every occasion on which I 
present myself here. I may as well come no 


more. 


WATCHING AND WAITING IN YAIN. 


307 


Yet, somehow, he began insensibly to look for 
sympathy and comfort from Maud. 

Mrs. Dorchester looked on with anxious eyes. 

“ You may as well turn your attention else- 
where, my dear,” she would often say. “ Gilbert 
WetherelPs one thought is of Nadine. There are 
plenty of other young gentlemen heart-whole and 
fancy-free. Why waste your precious time on 
him ?” 

“ Because out of the whole world of men I 
could love only him,” the girl replied, in a low 
voice. 4 4 When he and Nadine parted I am sure 
fate had a hand in it, intending him for me . I 
am sure of it, mamma.” 

Still Mrs. Dorchester felt worried over the mat- 
ter. She wished that Maud had set her heart on 
any other man. 

“He is coming here too much. Maud is 
thrown into his society too often. Despite her 
protests, I think I ought to let him know Nadine 
is not here ; then his visits would cease ; it would 
be best.” 

Maud took on so when she hinted at this that 
her eyes were fairly opened to the fact her 
daughter loved Wetherell with all the force of her 
Southern nature — love him wdio never could, and 
never would return it. Ah ? the pity of this 


308 


WATCHING AND WAITING IN VAIN. 


wealth of wasted love so lavishly given, and all 
in vain ! 

She saw now how enormous her mistake had 
been in not crushing this fatal love in the bud, 
putting the whole world between her daughter 
and handsome, courteous Gilbert Wetherell. 

“Let me enjoy his society while I can, 
mamma,” she said, with such pathos in her voice 
that it wrung her mother’s heart. “ When he 
goes from me it will be as though the world’s 
sun had forever set for me, leaving the earth in 
eternal gloom. I shall want to turn my face to 
the wall and die.” 

“The sooner that she is cured of this attach- 
ment the better,” thought Mrs. Dorchester, in 
alarm. “My eyes have been blinded too long.” 

Hurrying through the drawing-room out into 
the garden, she saw Patty — one of the house- 
maids —gathering roses for the parlor vases. 

“Patty,” she said, nervously, “ if the door bell 
rings this afternoon, you are to answer it instead 
of Peters.” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” answered the girl, wonderingly. 

“If it is Mr. Wetherell whom you admit, ask if 
he wishes to see Miss Maud or Nadine. He will, 
no doubt, answer Miss Maud, Then you are to 


WATCHING AND WAITING IN VAIN. 


309 


casually remark that Nadine has left Linden Villa. 
You understand ?” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” answered Patty. 

The girl executed her mission well. 

“Will you walk in, sir?” she said, before 
Wetherell could frame the words on his lips. 
“ Miss Maud is in. The other young lady has 
gone away.” 

“ Nadine— has — gone — away ?” he asked, ea- 
gerly. 

“ Yes, sir,” repeated the girl, demurely. 

“ How ? — when ?” he questioned. “ If you will 
tell me where she went I shall be very grateful.” 
And he made his words emphatic by sc silver dol- 
lar placed in her hand. 

“ I am sure I don’t quite know, sir,” she said 
courtesying. “I thought I heard them saying 
something about a place called Uplands.” 

“Thank you,” answered Wetherell, turning 
away. 

“Aren’t you coming in. sir?” asked the girl, in 
wonder. 

“ No ; I think I haven’t time this afternoon. 
Give my card to Miss Maud, with my compli- 
ments. Say that I did not have time to make a 
call. I — I am called hurriedly out of town.” 

Maud had seen him coming leisurely up the 


310 


WATCHING AND WAITING IN YAIN. 


broad walk from behind the screen of lace cur- 
tains, and the novel she had been reading went in 
one direction, and her curl papers in the other, 
when Patty’s timid knock was heard on the door. 

When Miss Dorchester threw it open, she 
delivered her message. 

“ Gone !” screamed Maud — “ Gone ! Why didn’t 
you fly up here and deliver that message before 
he had time to reach the gate? Take that for 
your stupidity !” cried the enraged beauty, admin- 
istering a sound box on the girl’s ears. 

Patty retreated in hot haste, but all the way 
down stairs, as she afterwards told in the ser- 
vants’ hall, she heard Miss Dorchester going on 
like one mad. 

Peters was quickly dispatched to the hotel with 
a note for Mr. Wetherell, but the clerk informed 
him that he had left the Grand Union, being just 
in time to catch an outgoing New York express. 
“Miss will be just furious when she hears that,” 
mumbled Peters. “But it is as it should be. 
What right has she to look at Marse Gilbert, 
anyhow ?” 

“Dear me,” muttered the hotel clerk, turning 
back to his books, “that reminds me that I for- 
got to give Mr. Wetherell the letter that came in 
the last mail for him.” 


WATCHING AND WAITING IN VAIN. 


311 


“Now, here’s a pretty go,” he said, slowly, 
knitting his brow. “This letter says, ‘If not 

delivered in three days, return to ’ — ah, 

who in the deuce is it to be returned to ? A Phil- 
adelphia lawyer couldn’t make out that scrawl. 
If Mr. Gilbert Wetherell’s correspondents expect 
their letters either forwarded or returned, they 
must give a fellow a better lead than this scrawl.” 

Turning the square, white envelope over in his 
hand, he saw that it was postmarked Glen Farm 
P. 0. 

“ Some little rustic beauty languishing for the 
handsome young fellow while he has been revel- 
ing in the smiles of the gay Saratoga belles.” 

He had unconsciously wasted more time over 
the letter than he usually allotted to any one of 
the many thousands that passed through his 
hands, and tossing it back in the box, forgot it. 

Thus the letter poor Aunt Hester had secretly 
written — for it was from her — was never destined 
to be received by Gilbert Wetherell. 

Surely a fate more cruel never shaped two des- 
tinies. Would they ever meet again, and a recon- 
ciliation ever take place ? Affairs looked sadly 
against it now. 

And this was how it happened that Aunt Hes- 
ter watched and waited all in vain for Gilbert 
Wether ell’s coming. 


312 


love’s ROSY DREAM. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

love’s rosy dream enthralls the handsome 

ARTIST. 

Gilbert Wetherell made the journey to Uplands 
with a heart filled with conflicting emotions. He 
would have but one excuse to offer her for follow- 
ing,. her here, and that was, to plead for the last 
time for her love. He would accept her answer 
as final. 

It was a great disappointment to him, when he 
reached the villa, to ]earn from the housekeeper 
that Nadine was not there, nor had she been 
there. 

He waited in the village for ten days, but 
Nadine did not come to Uplands, and hope turned 
to despair in his breast. Then his pride rose up 
in fierce rebellion at what he clearly considered 
her avoidance of him, and he left Uplands in hot 
haste, vowing that he should never look upon her 
face again. 

He concluded that he might as well go abroad' 
again, — there was nothing like incessant travel to 
make one forget. 

Coming to New York, he took passage on the 


love’s rosy dream. 


313 


Corintliia for Liverpool. It was fully a fortnight 
before the steamer sailed, and it was no easy 
matter, for a man as restless as he was, to fill in 
the time. 

He was thankful enough to run across one of 
his old college chums, Frank Renwick, who had 
since made his name quite famous as a rising 
young artist, and to learn that he, too, contem- 
plated making a trip abroad, sailing on the Cor- 
inthia. 

“ I thought you made a vow that you would 
never set foot on a steamer again, after your last 
escapade on the other side,” smiled Wetherell. 

“ What makes the best of men break their 
vows?” laughed the handsome young artist. 

“ Lots of things, I suppose,” returned Wether- 
ell, indifferently. 

“But one thing in particular — a beautiful 
young woman,” said Mr. Renwick, twirling the 
ends of his dark mustache with his white, shapely 
fingers. 

“Is it a wedding trip that is on the tapis?” 
asked Wetherell, glancing up quickly, his interest 
suddenly awakened. 

“I wish to Heaven it were,” cried the artist; 
“ but come, I will be frank with you and admit 
the divinity to whom my soul does homage goes 


314 


love’s rosy dream. 


to Europe by the Corinthia , on this trip, and, 
though at a deuce of an inconvenience, I have 
hustled my affairs into shape, to go by that 
steamer, too. 

“ It’s droll, the amount of trouble I’m having 
to make her acquaintance ; but, by George, it’s 
worth it ; she’s simply divine. Have a cigar ; let’s 
take a drive through Central Park, and I’ll tell 
you about her.” 

Wetherell was too much absorbed in his own 
love affair to pay much attention to his friend’s ; 
but he could not well refuse, and behind a pair of 
handsome bays they were soon dashing down the 
avenue. 

“ I used to laugh at the idea some clever writer 
got up that 4 the course of true love never runs 
smooth,’ ” said Ren wick, anxious to take up the 
thread of their previous conversation again, 44 but 
now I believe it with a vengeance.” 

“I can certainly agree with you in that,” 
returned Wetherell, laconically. 

44 It was only a week since I met this charming 
girl, and life has not been the same to me ever 
since. When a fellow remains heart-whole, has 
had no love affairs up to the time he is six-and- 
twenty, if he does fall in love, the fever is apt to 
go pretty hard with him. Don’t you know that ?” 


love’s rosy dream. 


315 


“Yes,” returned Wetherell, “that’s pretty 
much the way of it.” 

“ I went up the country to make a few sketches 
of rural life, little imagining on that trip I was 
destined to meet my fate, as the novelists phrase 
it, but that is exactly what happened. 

“ I was out, one morning, sketching a bit of 
still life that had struck my fancy, when suddenly 
a shadow fell between the canvas and the sun- 
shine. Raising my eyes, I beheld a young girl 
walking hurriedly down the path, scarcely ten 
feet distant. She gave me one rapid, thoughtless 
glance from a pair of dark eyes, and the mischief 
was done. 

“ Talk of sketching for the rest of the day ! 
Why, my dear fellow, there wasn’t the least bit 
of use in it. The inspiration was gone. I could 
think of nothing but that lovely, girlish face, and 
that pair of dark, starry eyes, and the fair face 
that I fancied looked unhappy. 

“ In an instant I had resolved upon my course 
of action. I must follow her, and find out who 
she was. She was already some distance down 
the path. Hastily packing my things together — 
standing not upon the order of the packing— -I 
hastened after her. She entered an old farm- 
house ; and though I hung about the place for 


316 


love’s rosy dream. 


hours, she did not come out again, so I concluded 
then that this must be her home, which surmise 
proved to be quite correct, as I learned afterward. 

“ One could as easily have imagined a beautiful 
bird shut up in a wooden box, as this y oung and 
lovely girl in a home like this. The house was a 
dark dull red, with a board walk of two planks 
leading from the gate to the door. There was not 
a vestige of flower or blossom to be seen ; it was 
all hard, uncompromising, plain. There was no 
wave of white lace curtains ; stiff, dull drab, filled 
every window. True, there was an extensive 
farm at the back of it, but there was not one line 
of beauty about it. 

“ I went back to the country tavern where I 
was putting up, and re-engaged my room, which 
I had given notice that I should vacate that night, 
for another fortnight, meanwhile making casual 
inquiries as to the occupants of the farm-house 
over the way. I learned that the young girl was 
a mece of the farmer’s wife, there on a visit. 

“ For three days I haunted the path in the 
vicinity of the farm-house, but I could gain no 
nearer view of her than a fleeting glimpse as she 
passed the window or the door : and at the end of 
those three days I was more in love than ever. 
I was now satisfied as to the thoroughness of my 


love’s rosy dream. 


317 


love ; certain that this sudden attachment would 
endure as long as my life ; that it was no tran- 
sient flush to fade away with time or absence. 
Whether my suit be successful or not, this beau- 
tiful girl will be my first and my last love, I told 
myself. 

“ But it was tantalizing to find no opportunity 
of even commencing the siege ; and at length it 
occurred to me that shrewd men invented their 
opportunities, and I set to work to think up some 
plan which would afford me the sweet privilege 
of exchanging a few words with her. At length 
I happened to think of a happy expedient. It was 
a warm August day ; I saw her at the well ; I 
would ask her for a glass of water ; she would 
not have the faintest suspicion of my real errand, 
I felt well assured. 

“ I opened the gate and entered, but, as I ad- 
vanced, the dragon of an aunt, who had been 
watching from one of the windows, emerged 
quickly from the house, and hurried down the 
path to meet me. 

“ I saw before me a tall, spare, angular woman, 
sharp of eyes and sharp of features. She looked 
at me with uncompromising suspicion. 

“ I removed my hat with a low bow, and stated 
my errand, casually mentioning who I was, and 


318 


love’s rosy dream. 


how I happened to be in that locality, begging 
permission, as I took the cool glass from her hand, 
to rest on the shady side porch for a moment ; 
for, while we were speaking, my divinity had 
taken her seat there. 

“ ‘I should— I should prefer to bring you a chair 
here,’ she said, frostily. ‘ It is as shady, and 
much cooler.’ 

“ I was beginning to hate this woman on gen- 
eral principles already. I saw that I should have 
a valiant foe in her. She meant to guard her 
niece like a thoroughbred Spanish duenna. 

“Assuming a fictitious interest in farming, I 
attempted to open out a conversation on that sub- 
ject, that I might sit there and study the face of 
that lovely niece ; but she would not converse ; 
on the contrary, she acted as though it would be 
a decided relief to her when I should go, and re- 
luctantly I took my leave shortly after, vexed 
enough that I had not had the opportunity to ex- 
change a word or a glance with the lovely girl. 

“ I was in despair — I could not call at the farm 
every day for a glass of water — nor could I be 
seen hanging about that vicinity, to use an expres- 
sion more common than elegant. 

“ At the end of a week I was just as far from 
making the acquaintance of this fair girl, whom I 


love’s rosy dream. 


319 


adored, as I had been on the day on which I was 
working away at my picture, and she passed in 
the path. 

“ I must certainly manage the affair by strat- 
egy, I concluded. 4 All is fair in love and war.’ 

“ I laid my plans for the campaign as carefully 
as a general lays his plans for a great battle which 
he intends to win, and just as I was on the point 
of putting the plan into execution I was met by 
the startling intelligence that the stern aunt and 
her lovely niece are on the eve of an extended 
trip abroad, sailing on the Corinthia. 

“It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good, 
Wetherell, my dear boy. You know what life on 
a steamer deck is. There, above all places, for- 
mality in making acquaintances is to a certain 
extent waived. I swear to you I shall make it 
my business to make the acquaintance of this 
fair creature whose name even I do not know, 
and trust to luck, or fate, or whatever shapes the 
destinies of us mortals, to win her.” 

“I hope from the bottom of my heart that 
your wooing will be successful, my dear fellow,” 
declared Wetherell, heartily; “and if I can aid 
you in any way, I am with you heart and soul.” 

He would not have made that remark had he 


320 


love’s ROST DREAM. 


known who this charming creature with whom 
his friend had fallen so deeply in love really was. 

As the reader has no doubt long since sur- 
mised, the lovely girl was Nadine. 

For days Hester had waited patiently for a 
reply to her letter, until patience had long since 
ceased to be a virtue. 

“It is as Nadine says,” she told herself at 
length, “though who would have believed it. 
He does not wish to become reconciled with her, 
poor dear. Well, from this time out I shall not 
encourage her in crying her heart out about him. 
If he doesn’t love her, what does she want of 
him ?” 

When a fortnight passed, and there was no 
word, no hope, Aunt Hester decided it was all 
over between Gilbert Wetherell and Nadine for- 
ever. And what a pity it was, too — Nadine loved 
him so well. It was hard to see her pine and 
fade like a flower in a chilling blast, day by day, 
and at length she hit upon the plan of inducing 
Nadine to take a short strip abroad, little dream- 
ing what would come of it. 


THE HASTY TRIP TO EUROPE. 


321 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE HASTY TRIP TO EUROPE. 

It was a beautiful day on which the Corinthia 
set sail ; the sky was blue overhead, and the 
waves were dimpling and smiling under the beams 
of the golden sunshine. 

Mr. Renwick, the artist, was in a fever of 
excitement to hurry his friend Wetherell aboard, 
and, once there, to watch on deck for the arrival 
of his inamorata. 

“I will leave you to your reflections for a little 
while,” said Wetherell. “ I am going to the 
other end of the deck to smoke a cigar. If I see 
them coming, I will call you.” 

When the steamer was under full headway the 
young artist came anxiously to Wetherell, say- 
ing : 

“ Early as we were here, they must have 
reached the steamer in advance of us. I did not 
see them come on.” 

“ Perhaps they were left. Such mishaps have 
occurred often enough,” said Wetherell ; but he 
rather repented the words when he saw the 
expression of his friend’s face, and he thought ot 


322 


THE HASTY TRIP TO EUROPE. 


the words, “Hope deferred maketh the heart 
sick.” 

“ Cheer up, my dear fellow. That was merely 
a surmise of mine,” he added. “ Ten to one you 
will come face to face with the young lady in the 
cabin or on deck before we are three hours out of 
port.” 

Renwick’s gloomy face brightened. 

“ I can but hope so,” he replied ; but even as he 
spoke an exclamation of exultation broke from 
his lips. “ Ah !” he said, in a low, excited under- 
tone, “ I caught a glimpse of that dragon of a 
duenna. My angel must be somewhere in the 
background. She caught just one glimpse of me, 
and I could have sworn that she turned white 
with amazement and indignation. But I shall not 
care for her espionage if I am living in the same 
atmosphere with that charming girl. I hope I do 
not bore you with this love affair of mine,” he 
added, quickly. “A thousand pardons if I do, 
old fellow.” 

“ By no means,” returned Wetherell. “ On the 
contrary, I cannot help feeling interested, as I 
told you before.” 

“ By the by,” said Ren wick, thoughtfully, 
“ what became of that young girl that you used 
to be always talking about in the old college 


THE HASTY TRIP TO EUROPE. 


323 


days ? Being out of New York so long, I have 
lost the run of affairs. You know it is nearly 
three years since we parted, Wetherell .” 

“ Will you feel offended if I say I would rather 
not speak of that matter ? I will give confidence 
for confidence a little later on, but not now.” 

“ Forgive me if I have opened an old wound. 
Try and forget.” 

“ Try— and — forget,” murmured Wetherell, as 
he walked slowly to the other end of the deck, and 
paced up and down. “ Would to Heaven I could 
— but I cannot ; waking or sleeping the face of 
Nadine is ever before me.” 

It was some diversion from his own sorrow to 
watch the progress of his friend’s love affair, and 
he certainly hoped most sincerely that it would 
not have as disastrous a finale as his own. 

The sunlit day passed, and the gloaming, which 
falls early on the water, soon deepened into night. 

The stars came out one by one and fixed them- 
selves in the heavens, mirroring themselves in the 
dancing waves below. 

The words occurred to Wetherell as he paced 
the deck : 

“Ten thousand stars were in the sky, 

Ten thousand in the sea.” 


324 


THE HASTY TRIE TO EUROPE. 


He was startled from his reverie by the rapid 
approach of his friend Renwick. There was a 
broad smile on his friend’s face, and the light in 
his eyes betokened the best of humor. 

“ Fortune has favored me,” he cried. “ I have 
seen that charming girl and spoken to her. The 
ice is broken at last. Would it interest you to 
know how it came about ?” 

“ Certainly,” said Wetherell, good-naturedly. 

“I was walking through the ladies’ cabin think- 
ing of her, when suddenly she appeared before 
me. It was a case of 

‘ Think of angels and you will hear the rustle of their wings.’ 

And, at that propitious moment, the vessel gave 
a lurch forward, precipitating the young lady 
directly into my arms. 

“ ‘ I beg your pardon,’ she said, simply ; ‘ this 
is the first time I have been on the ocean. I have 
not gotten used yet to the swaying motion of the 
vessel.’ 

“ Without waiting for a reply she went on : ‘I 
am in search of the stewardess. My aunt is very 
ill. I fear she will be obliged to keep in her state- 
room the entire trip.’ 

“If she had glanced up she would have seen 
the delight in my face which I anxiously strove 


THE HASTY TRIP TO EUROPE. 


325 


to conceal ; not delight that the lynx-eyed duen- 
na was sea- sick, of course, but enraptured over 
the prospect that she would be kept in her room 
during the trip. Here was my opportunity. 
Surely fate had had a hand in this. 

“ I offered my services at once to fetch the stew- 
ardess to her, if she would but take a seat just 
where she was, and she gladly consented, thank- 
ing me for my trouble, as she called it, in the 
prettiest and most unaffected way imaginable. 
She little dreamed what a pleasure it was to me 
to aid her in any possible way. Why, Wetherell, 
a man could die for such a divine girl as that, I 
assure you. 

“ There is one thing that makes me a trifle dis- 
heartened,” he went on, “and that is, she does 
not seem to be in the slightest degree attracted 
toward me. I met her on the deck since that, and 
her eyes and manner gave me no encouragement 
to stop and talk, and with a bow I passed on. It 
is clear to me that love at first sight is not bound 
to be reciprocal ; she will not be easily won.” 

“ Faint heart ne’er won fair lady,” quoted 
Wetherell. “ You will have plenty of time to see 
the young lady during the next eight or nine days 
we are out.” 

But this assurance did not prove correct. A 


326 


THE HA8TY TRIP TO EUROPE. 


week passed, and much to Een wick’s discomfiture, 
the young lady did not put in an appearance. 

He bribed the stewardess and one of the waiters 
to find out if she, too, were ill, and if so, to con- 
vey his most profound sympathy. But no, she 
was perfectly well, he learned, and she was keep- 
ing her aunt company, having their meals served 
together in her aunt’s state-room. 

“It is evident I must commence the siege by 
making friends with the aunt,” he told Wetherell, 
ruefully, one day. “Because she cannot get out 
she keeps the girl a close prisoner, too.” 

As often as courtesy and decorum would permit, 
he sent most solicitous messages to the aunt, until 
at last Hester Burns became somewhat curious. 

“It is the young artist, you say, Nadine ?” she 
inquired, curiously. “ Now what interest can he 
have in my welfare, to send three times a day to 
inquire if I am better or not ? I tell you, Nadine, 
the man is in love, and with you , Do not look so 
shocked, my dear. Is there anything so surpris- 
ing in that ? You are young, fair, clever — what 
more natural than that you should have captured 
this young man’s susceptible heart ?” 

“ Do not talk about it, aunt; I— I cannot bear it. 
It seems dreadful to mention any other man except 


THE HASTY TRIP TO EUROPE. 


327 


Gilbert in the same breath with love and my- 
self .” 

“ As for Gilbert, the sooner you cease thinking 
of him in connection with love, the better,” re- 
torted her aunt slowly. “He is like all men 
false and fickle.” 

Nadine looked at her curiously. 

“ You used to like Gilbert, aunt,” she said. 
“ How strange it seems that in the last ten days 
your opinion of him has changed so materially.” 

Aunt Hester turned away from those keen, 
young, scrutinizing eyes, and flushed a dull red. 

She meant to keep her own counsel. Nadine’s 
pride should never be humbled, and her heart 
bled afresh by the knowledge that she had writ- 
ten to Gilbert Wetherell, admitting that her niece 
still loved him, and urging him to come on to 
Glen Farm, where Nadine was, and that he had 
ignored her letter completely. 

“ What she does know won’t hurt her,” she 
had told herself. 

It was great grief to her to see Nadine droop 
and fade day by day before her very eyes. 

“The girl is breaking her heart over him, and 
I can do nothing,” she sighed, bitterly. 

•Then came the thought of taking Nadine 
abroad. 


328 


THE HASTY TRIP TO EUROPE. 


“ Nothing assuages the grief of disappointed 
love like time and absence,” she thought. 

The appearance of the handsome young artist 
at Glen Farm, and his open glance of admiration 
as he looked at Nadine, annoyed her. She was 
glad Nadine did not perceive his admiration. 

His face was the first one she had encountered 
on stepping on board the steamer. 

“Now, is this purely accidental,” thought Hes- 
ter, angrily, “or has that man followed Nadine, 
having heard that we were to sail on this 
steamer ?” 

When she heard of Nadine’s encounter with 
him in the cabin, she had broached the subject of 
his having fallen in love with her to Nadine in a 
roundabout manner, ending by warning her to 
have as little to say to him as possible. 

But this injunction was scarcely needed. 
Nadine had no desire to encourage ever so slightly 
the attentions of this handsome, young stranger. 

It was quite as much for this reason as any 
other that she kept her aunt company, refraining 
from appearing on deck. 

At length Renwick could endure this state of 
affairs no longer. 

“ I must see her !” he declared to himself. “I 
shall see her before another day passes !” 


THE TERRIBLE CALAMITY. 


329 


But how was he to accomplish it when she shut 
herself up in the state-room with a grim, old aunt, 
never appearing on either deck, or in the cabin ? 
It was certainly a difficult problem to solve. 

He had concluded to write her a polite little 
note, begging her to come on deck a few moments 
that afternoon, and criticise a sketch he was mak- 
ing from memory, of the old farm-house and the 
shady porch, on which a young girl sat, that 
young girl being herself. Of course, natural curi • 
osity would be sure to bring her from her state- 
room to look at the picture. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE TERRIBLE CALAMITY IN MID-OCEAN. 

Mr. Renwick sent his note to state-room No. 
212, and paced the deck eagerly, awaiting her re- 
ply ; but, ah me ! 

“The best laid plan of mice and man 
Aft gang aglee.” 

Even while he waited he became aware that 
there was a sudden change in the weather immi- 
nent. Dark clouds began to gather in the cold- 


330 


THE TERRIBLE CALAMITY. 


gray leaden sky ; the wind freshened, and the 
dark waves began to lash each other into foam- 
crested mountains, swaying the steamer to and 
fro like an egg shell on the breast of an angry 
sea. 

In the midst of it he received a verbal message 
from Nadine, saying she would be very pleased to 
see the picture on the morrow; she could not 
leave her aunt just at present, as she was very ill, 
indeed, from the effects of the coming storm. 

“ I shall see her to- morrow',” he says, joyously ; 
and, like all impatient lovers, he counts the hours 
that w'ill intervene between that time and this, 
and he concludes that the best way to do is to 
engross himself in his picture while it is yet light. 
But he soon finds, with the pitching and rocking 
of the steamer, this is impossible. 

He knows he could find Wetherell on deck, but 
he does not feel in the mood for conversation. 

“ People in love like their own thoughts better 
than any companion’s,” he thought, smiling. 

“ It is going to be a terrible night, Benwick,” 
said Gilbert Wetherell, as he caught sight of his 
friend as he passed him on his way to his state- 
room. 

“So I imagine,” replied Benwick, “and for 
that reason my berth will be preferable to sitting 


THE TERRIBLE CALAMITY. 


331 


out on deck with you. You had better follow 
my example and turn in.” 

“I will, a little later on,” replied Gilbert 
Wetherell. 

They parted with a pleasant nod. Neither of 
them ever dreamed under what distressing cir- 
cumstances they should meet again. 

How long Wetherell stood there he never knew. 
Long since the darkness of Hades had settled 
over the plunging, swaying steamer and the 
world of inky, turbulent waters. The storm 
commenced in earnest. The rain fell in torrents ; 
the lightning flashed in red, blinding glares of 
light, making the horrible scene vividly lurid for 
one brief instant, then leaving the world to dark- 
ness and the wild fury of the raging storm. 

The fierce gales of wind almost take Wetherell 
from his feet. Sometimes he quite wishes that 
his life would end here and now. Who would 
care ? Who would miss him, save his sister and 
his old mother ? 

Some one touches him on the arm. Glancing 
around with a start, he finds himself face to face 
with one of the sailors. 

“ It’s an awful night, sir,” the man says, add- 
ing, in his bluff, hearty way : “ And it’s anything 
but safe to be standing here on deck. We’ve 


332 


THE TERRIBLE CALAMITY. 


just lost a man, sir — as good a lad as I ever 
weighed anchor with. Take my advice and go 
below.” 

Wetherell smiled gloomily. 

“The warring of the elements just suits my 
frame of mind to-night. You are kind to advise 
me. I shall remain here for a short time, 
though.” 

The old sailor passed on, muttering something 
about “what fools some people were to expose 
themselves to the merciless storm when they 
warn’t obleeged to.” 

An hour later the same old sailor saw the tall, 
straight figure still standing on deck, breasting 
the fury of the bitter storm. 

“ He’ll get enough of it within the next half 
hour if the wind continues to rise as it is risin’ 
now,” he thought. 

And the wind did rise. It almost seemed to 
Gilbert Wetherell that the flood gates of Heaven 
were opened wide to deluge the earth on this 
awful night. 

“ Twelve o’clock and all’s well,” sang out the 
watch below. 

But simultaneously with those words, there 
were horrible cries, and a deafening sound of 
crashing timber. 


THE TEEEIBLE CALAMITY. 


333 


Intuitively, Wetherell understood what had 
occurred — the steamer had been struck by light- 
ning — but he did not known then how much dam- 
age had been done — that the vessel had been 
nearly rent in twain. 

In an instant a scene of the wildest confusion 
prevailed. There were wild, piteous cries from 
dazed women and children who had been precipi- 
tated from their berths. And over the din was 
heard the mighty cry : 

“ To the life-boats ! There is a hole in the 
vessel’s side ! She is sinking !” 

Yes, the doomed steamer was settling. Already 
the mad waters covered the hold, and with each 
instant of time were rising higher and higher. 

No pen can picture the awful confusion of the 
scene, as that terrible cry ran from lip to lip — The 
steamer is sinking ! The fright, the confusion, 
the dismay, the hoarse cry of the sailors, the terri- 
ble screams of loved ones who had been separated 
by the mad, paralyzed throng struggling toward 
the life-boats. The weaker were hurled down 
and trampled upon by the stronger. What did 
one person care for another in that great struggle 
for life or for death ! 

Wetherell’s first thought was for his friend, 
Ren wick ; but it was impossible to force his way 


334 


THE TERRIBLE CALAMITY. 


through the panic-stricken, mad throng who 
were pushing forward. 

In this awful calamity the few men with cool 
heads and steady nerves were attempting to care 
for the helpless women and children first ; fore- 
most among them was Wetherell. 

The last boat had been lowered, and the cap- 
tain and Wetherell had stepped into it. 

“ Row for your lives, lads !” commanded the 
captain, in a voice like a bugle blast, “ or the 
steamer will draw us down with her !” 

Even while he spoke, there was a cry of horror 
from one of the men. 

“ Look, Captain!” he cried. “All are not 
saved. My God ! there is a woman standing on 
the deck ; the storm drowns her frantic cries !” 

“ Push ahead !” commanded the captain. “ To 
pull one stroke nearer that doomed vessel means 
death for us all. Twenty lives cannot, must not , 
be sacrificed for one !” 

“ Hold !” cried Wetherell, leaping to his feet. 
“ I cannot desert a woman in such peril as that ! 
Push on without me,” and before those about 
him could lift a hand to save him he had plunged 
boldly into the boiling sea and struck out for the 
sinking ship. 

“ The man is mad !” cried the captain. 


THE TERRIBLE CALAMITY. 


335 


Life is too precious to the crew to give the mat- 
ter a second thought. They pulled hard, and the 
mighty strokes drove the life-boat out of the 
wake of the plunging, swaying, deserted steamer. 

As our noble hero struck the hissing waves, 
who shall picture the thoughts that surged like a 
flash through his breast ? 

“ Nadine, my darling,” he murmured, “ God 
bless you wherever you are to-night ! God bless 
you — and — good-bye !” 

There was little need in striking out toward the 
steamer. The suction of the water as the vessel 
settled drew him toward her ; and in the mete- 
oric flashes of lightning he could see the slender 
form clinging to the railing of the deck. 

“It will be death with both of us,” he thought 
in horrible despair. 

“ Jump !” he cried out, “ and I will save you !” 
He realized that it was their only chance now, for 
struggle against it as valiantly as he could, he was 
being drawn under. “ Jump !” he cried again. 
“ I can come no nearer !” 

And, thank Heaven, she heard that loud com- 
mand over the wild warring of the furious ele- 
ments, and obeyed. She sank ; the wild waves 
closed over her ; but in the next flash of light 
Wetherell saw her near at hand and grasped her. 


336 


THE TERRIBLE CALAMITY. 


“ Cling close to me !” he cried, hoarsely. “It 
is our only chance of life. We are facing death 
together.” 

He heard a sharp cry, and the arms relaxed 
their hold, and she would have fallen back into 
the waves that were yearning to receive them 
both, if he had not anticipated the emergency and 
caught her closely with his left arm, while he 
struck out valiantly with his right. 

He was a bold and fearless swimmer, but, in 
the face of peril like this, no wonder his heart 
sank ; but, even in this moment of concentrated, 
awful despair he did not regret risking his life to 
save that of the poor creature they had all aban- 
doned and left alone — to die. 

No human imagination can paint truthfully, in 
its horrible reality, that gallant death struggle in 
its awful terror. 

There was a fearful commotion in the waves as 
the steamer went down ; but, thank Heaven ! 
rescuer and rescued were out of her wake. 

How he kept up, with that heavy burden to 
support, Heaven knew. An hundred times he was 
on the point of giving up the struggle, but hope 
urged him on. When daylight broke, with the 
first faint streak of early dawn, he observed a 
dark object floating on the water near him. 


SAVED FOR A CRUEL FATE. 


337 


“A boat !” he gasped. “ God be praised !” 

It was floating bottom side up in the water. 

With much difficulty he righted it, succeeded 
in lifting his heavy burden over the edge of it, 
dropping her into the bottom of it, and clambering 
in himself. 

Then, and not until then, did he fully realize 
the almost superhuman strength he had put 
forth, for, without a cry or moan, strong man 
though he was, he sank into a dead faint to the 
bottom of the boat beside the woman he had 
rescued. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

SAVED, BUT FOR A MORE CRUEL FATE. 

The deadly faintness which siezed Wetherell 
was but momentary, however. When he found 
himself in comparative safety, his overstrained 
nerves, which had endured so much and so long, 
gave way completely ; but with an almost super- 
human effort, he recalled his scattered senses, 
struggled to a sitting posture, turning quickly 
toward the woman he had periled his own life to 
save. 

Was she dead, or dying ? She had fallen back 


338 


SAVED FOR A CRUEL FATE. 


on his arm ifi the water with a low cry, and con- 
sciousness had left her. Had he not still clung to 
her, even without knowing whether she was 
dead or alive, she must surely have perished. 

A quivering moan that broke from her lips at 
that moment set his doubts at rest. 

Thank Heaven, his great peril had not been in 
vain. She lived. He was not alone on the great, 
wild, desolate ocean. 

Who shall paint or describe his feelings, when, 
bending near her, he made the startling discovery 
that he had rescued Nadine ! — Nadine whom he 
had not even known to be on board the steamer. 

He staggered back so shocked at the marvelous 
discovery that he came very near upsetting the 
boat. 

In an instant he was kneeling beside her, cover- 
ing her face with passionate kisses, rubbing the 
little, chill hands and the death- white cheeks, 
begging, imploring her, by every name love could 
suggest, to open her eyes and speak to him. 

The hours dragged themselves slowly by. A 
glad morn had been born of this darksome night. 
The sun rose bright and golden over the waste of 
water, and the sea was calm ; but all through 
those long hours, though Wetherell had used 


SAVED FOR A CRUEL FATE. 


339 


every means to restore Nadine to consciousness, 
all his efforts were futile. 

‘ 4 Is it death, this terrible pallor ?” he cried out 
in agony. “ Oh, Nadine, it cannot be that Heaven 
has let me save you for this — to watch you droop 
and die before my very eyes ! It would drive me 
to madness.” 

For himself, he cared nothing. All his fears 
were for Nadine. 

Her swoon lasted so long, he was beside him- 
self with grief. Would consciousness never re- 
turn to her? When the sun set and the air grew 
more chill, he took off his coat, and wrapped it 
about her, pillowing the dark head on his arm. 

He would not have thought of attempting to 
row in any direction, even had he had oars, which 
he did not have. 

Heaven alone knew how anxiously he had 
watched, with strained eyes, for a sail ; but none 
appeared in sight ; how he dreaded the approach 
of the night which must come. They were di- 
rectly in the path of the vessels coming and go- 
ing. Would not some craft run the little boat 
down in the darkness ? 

As the long hours of the night wore away, he 
thanked Heaven that Nadine was unconscious— 


340 


SAVED FOR A CRUEL FATE. 


that she was spared, through God’s mercy, the 
horrors he was enduring. 

Another morning dawned, but no sun broke the 
grayness of the dull, leaden sky. The great waves 
rose and fell restlessly. Wetherell knew there 
would be a storm ; this was the last drop of 
anguish that would fill their cup of misery, which 
was now nearly overflowing. 

He was obliged to be on the constant watch, 
too, lest Nadine, who had now recovered her 
senses, should fling herself from the boat down 
into the waves, which she seemed to think “held 
out their arms for her,” as she expressed it. 

It was trying to listen to her ravings, but 
through them he discovered how dearly she loved 
him. His name was ever upon her lips. 

“Why, in heaven’s name, did she leave me, I 
wonder, loving me like this ?” was the puzzling 
question that would come into his mind. “Oh, 
Nadine ! Nadine !” he would murmur, brokenly, 
“if I could but save you, we might be happy 
yet.” 

Another dusk was settling dowm over the 
waters when, to Wetherell’s intense joy, he 
sighted a vessel. Would she pass near enough 
to that rocking, tossing, tiny boat for those on 
board to hear his voice, he wondered. 


SAVED FOR A CRUEL FATE. 


341 


How he watched her course with bated breath, 
calculating she must pass somewhere within a 
quarter of a mile of them, which was the case ; 
but, to his dismay, she did not swerve from her 
course — though he had sprung to his feet in the 
little rocking boat, shouting at the top of his 
voice, as he waved his handkerchief frantically, 
to attract the attention of some one at least on 
board. 

With grief too terrible to be fully realized, he 
saw the vessel spread her sails like a great restless 
bird, and tack gracefully away, in quite an oppo- 
site direction. 

The wild cries for help died away in his throat ; 
tears that saved him from actual madness, gushed 
from his eyes, as he sunk down by Nadine’s side, 
murmuring : 

“ They have left us to our fate, my darling. 
May God and the angels pity us ! There is noth- 
ing but starvation and death before us.” 

Only that morning he had been greatly alarmed 
at the prospect of a rain-storm ; now , he looked 
forward to it with delirious joy ; for it would 
quench their terrible thrist, and he could not 
endure the piteous wail that broke, ever and anon, 
from Nadine’s parched lips: “Oh, water! 


342 


SAVED FOR A CRUEL FATE. 


water !” But the storm held off/ and seemed, at 
one time, likely to blow over. 

“ This torture must soon be ended,” muttered 
Wetherell, raising his dull, glazed, suffering eyes 
to the brassy sky. “ There is a limit to human 
endurance. We could never suffer through 
another day. Send us help, oh, Heaven ! or — 
speedy death !” 

Kneeling there, despairingly, by Nadine’s side, 
he had decided upon a desperate course. If, 
when the sun reached the meridian on the mor- 
row, the third day of their horrible suffering, no 
sail appeared within sight, he would clasp Nadine 
in his arms, and jump boldly into the sea with 
her, and end the heroic struggle for existence, 
there and then. 

How the hours of that terrible night ended he 
never knew. With the first streaks of early 
dawn he might have discerned a vessel bearing 
steadily down upon them. 

The clanging of bells, and the commotion, as 
the little skiff, out alone on the boisterous ocean 
with its two occupants, was sighted by the look- 
out, fell upon deafened ears. 

The captain and the crew of the foreign vessel 
nearing them took in the situation at a glance; 
but as they neared the little boat, shouting out, 


BAYED FOR A CRUEL FATE. 


343 


“ Rescue was at hand/’ the look-out was horrified 
to see one of the occupants clasp the other in his 
arms and leap boldly into the sea. In an instant 
the waves rolled over them, leaving no mark to 
indicate where they had gone down. 

Half-a-dozen sturdy sailors sprang into the life- 
boat, and pushed away with herculean strokes 
toward the spot where the two had vanished ; 
and when the couple rose, strong hands grasped 
them, and lifted them into the boat, and in a 
short space of time reached the vessel with them. 

The ship was an Italian trading vessel, bound 
for Liberia with products for exchange. 

In their language, the ship’s physician explained 
to the captain the condition of the two wrecked 
creatures the men had brought on board. 

The rough captain looked intently at the lovely 
face of Nadine for some ten minutes, then he 
turned to the doctor, saying, still in their own 
dialect : 

“The most beautiful creature is this that I 
have ever beheld. You must save her. She is 
young, and fancy free, I take it. See, she wears 
no emblem of being a wedded woman upon her 
hand, after the custom of her people when they 
are married.” 

“ I will save them both, if I can,” returned the 


344 : 


SAVED FOR A CRUEL FATE. 


doctor ; but the captain did not reply ; he turned 
on his heel and walked abruptly away. 

One of the women on board the trading ship 
was ordered by the captain to give up her apart- 
ment to the use of the beautiful stranger, and the 
woman was instituted as Nadine’s nurse. It so 
happened that this woman, the wife of one of the 
sailors, was the only person on the ship who 
could utter, even brokenly, the English language. 

Within a week’s time both patients were doing 
extremely well. Both had been delirious with 
fever, but the physician had succeeded in break- 
ing it up. 

Wetherell was the first to regain consciousness 
as to his surroundings. 

His first inquiries were as to how he came there, 
and if his companion were living or dead. The 
nurse was sent for to explain matters to him, and 
interpret the physician’s orders. 

“ The young lady who was in the boat with 
you was saved, too,” she said ; “but her illness 
seems far more serious than yours. We have not 
succeeded in breaking up the fever as yet, she is so 
frail and delicate.” 

“Life would be nothing to me if she should 
die,” groaned Wetherell, turning his face away. 


THIS BLEAK WORLD. 


345 


And those were the words the woman repeated 
to the captain in relating what had taken place. 

The look that flitted over the captain’s face was 
not good to see. 

“ He is in love with that beautiful young girl,” 
muttered the captain, when he found himself 
alone. “I saved her; she should be mine — she 
must be mine !” 

A terrible idea had entered the captain’s mind. 

“ Why save the life of the man who loved the 
fair maiden whom I crave ?” 

He had traveled through many lands ; he had 
seen the most beautiful women of all climes, but 
his stolid heart had never been touched by woman’s 
charms before. Now, for the first time in his life, 
he loved, and with a wild, idolatrous love that 
frightened even himself. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

“who would inhabit this bleak world 

ALONE ?” 

When Wetherell learned that Nadine had been 
saved with himself, and was progressing nicely, 
considering the circumstances, no pen can depict 
his joy and deep gratitude to Heaven. 


346 


THIS BLEAK WOULD. 


After this intelligence he passed the first peace- 
ful, refreshing sleep that he had enjoyed since the 
catastrophe. 

How long he slept he never knew. He awak- 
ened with a start and that peculiar sensation that 
one experiences when the dim consciousness 
comes to them in sleep that some one is bending 
over them. 

This proved to be the case. 

As his eyes opened he saw the captain and a 
woman standing by the bunk on which he lay, 
engaged in very earnest conversation. Both gave 
a sudden start as they saw the wondering eyes of 
the young man fixed on them curiously. 

“ The captain wishes to know if you are feeling 
well,” said the woman. “He cannot speak your 
language. I am to interpret your words to him.” 

“ Very nicely,” replied Wetherell. “I hope to 
be up and on deck very shortly. But tell me,” he 
interrogated, eagerly, “of the young lady saved 
with me. You said, yesterday, she was better. 
Is she still improving ? Did she pass a restful 
night?” 

“Are you anxious because you love her?” 
asked the woman, bending eagerly forward and 
looking keenly in his face. 


THIS BLEAK WORLD. 


347 


“Yes,” responded Wetherell, quickly, “I love 
her better than my own life.” 

“ And did she care for you?” persisted the 
woman. 

Wetherell was too sick a man to consider the 
strangeness of the question. 

“Yes,” he answered, with a smile that radiated 
his whole face. 

The woman explained to the captain what the 
conversation had been, and Wetherell fancied — 
although it must have been only a fancy, he 
told himself — that the captain’s swarthy, saffron 
face grew darker still with rage. He clenched his 
hands and turned abruptly away. 

“ The captain has something to say to you,” she 
began ; “ but I hardly know in what words to say 
that which must sooner or later be told you.” 

“Is it concerning — the— the — young lady,” he 
asked, hoarsely. 

She nodded. 

“ Tell me at once,” he said. “ Suspense would 
kill me. Is she worse ?” 

“The truth might kill you,” she replied. “I — 
well, we did not like to tell you when you were so 
low ; but I will tell you now. The lady died, and 
we left her at sea, a long ways back.” 

It seemed to Wetherell these words slew him. 
The life seemed to leave his body, every spark of 


348 


THIS BLEAK WORLD. 


vitality to die out. He did not cry out or utter 
any moan. His terrible grief was too intense for 
that. He was suffering pangs more poignant 
than the bitterness of death. He was only con- 
scious of a wild prayer that he might die, too. 

Their devilish work done, the captain and the 
woman turned and left him — left him alone with 
his terrible grief — without one particle of remorse 
or shame in their hearts for carrying out the 
scheme the captain had planned. 

Nadine dead ! While Heaven, in mistaken 
mercy, has spared him ! Oh, the gloom of it ! — 
the wild, terrible desolation of it ! How could he 
pick up the thread of life again, and go out into 
that world from which she had been so suddenly 
torn, and that, too, when happiness was so near 
at hand ; for he had learned through Nadine’s 
ravings that she loved him still. That knowledge 
had given him strength to brave the horrors of 
the deep, face death with a smile and a light heart ; 
for now, if they were saved, he planned he should 
never let pride stand between them ; he would 
claim her and hold her in spite of herself. A 
faint heart never Won in love’s warfare. Nadine, 
his beautiful, peerless darling, should never drift 
out of his life again. 

And now — she was dead. Strange, careless 


THIS BLEAK WOULD. 


349 


hands had cast her into the deep : the beautiful, 
pallid face, so like chiseled marble, framed in its 
rings of soft, brown, clustering hair, forever lost 
to the great, hurrying world, which he must 
inhabit alone forevermore. He was, like him 
with the great, throbbing heart whom the poet 
described in the lines : 

“ Like some lone bird without a mate, 

My lonely heart is desolate. 

I look around and cannot trace 
One friendly smile, a welcome face ; 

Even in crowds, I’m still alone 
Because I cannot love but one.” 

He did not care to see another sunrise. What 
had life to offer worth the living for now ? 

The physician found his patient so much worse 
when he made his next round that he was 
alarmed. 

The medicine-man, as he was called, sent at 
once for the interpreter ; then the captain was 
summoned. 

That he was the subject of their animated con- 
versation Wether ell well knew, but what they 
were talking about in the wild jangling of their 
native tongue he could not determine, nor did he 
care to. 

At last the woman touched his hand which lay 
on the coverlet. 


350 


THIS BLEAK WORLD. 


“ There is something the captain wishes me to 
say,” she said, “ and that is, if we should pass any 
vessel bound for either England or America, 
would you like to be transferred to it ? You shall 
be if you say so, for the captain is sorry for you. 
We make a long cruise. Gaining the interior of 
Liberia is difficult, even to those on our mission ; 
getting out of the country is more difficult still.” 

“I understand,” replied Wetherell, wearily. 
“I accept your captain’s kindness with gratitude. 
It does not matter to me whether it be English or 
American to which I make the transfer.” 

“ I will notify you as soon as one is sighted,” 
she said, as she left him. 

Late that night, according to her promise, 
Wetherell was notified, in all haste, and in less 
than an hour from that time he was on board the 
Euphratia, bound for New York. 

The captain watched the Euphratia until the 
darkness hid her from his view. 

“The fellow was easily put out of the wav,” he 
told himself, with a deep, guttural laugh. “Now 
I shall have the beautiful American girl all to 
myself, to woo her and win her for my own.” 

Yes, it was but too true ; Wetherell had been 
duped — cleverly disposed of by the most cruel of 
all cruel falsehoods ; and Nadine, his darling 


THIS BLEAK WORLD. 


351 


Nadine, whom he would have given twenty lives, 
if he had them, to protect, was at the mercy of 
this man. 

Nadine had, as the woman had at first informed 
him, progressed rapidly toward recovery. With 
youth and health on her side, the fever foe was 
valiantly battled with and overcome. Her first 
inquiry had been for Wetherell, for she had recog- 
nized him in the water when she had heard his 
voice, and although all that had transpired after 
was but a confused dream to her, she knew that 
he had succeeded, in some marvelous manner, in 
rescuing her and saving her. And the very 
knowledge that he was on board was happiness 
itself to her. 

She made up her mind at once just what she 
would do when she saw him — kneel at his feet, 
telling him all — confessing just what the horrible 
cloud was that had risen between them and sep- 
arated them. She would throw pride aside, and 
tell him how truly she loved him from first to 
last, and ask him, if she must, to take her back 
to his heart. 

Better that a few words should be spoken than 
the happiness of two lives wrecked forevermore. 
She must make haste in her recovery, in order to 
see him shortly. She had, that afternoon, asked 


352 


THIS BLEAK WORLD. 


the nurse where the vessel, on which she found 
herself, was bound for. 

The answer— “ Liberia ” — had filled her with 
great surprise. Still it did not matter to her. 
She felt as though she were going straight to 
Paradise, for he whom she loved would be there. 
What mattered it — Liberia, or the other end of 
the world? She was happy— ah, so happy to be 
with him. The same skies would be over both. 
He loved her once ; she would do her utmost to 
win back that love again. She had failed at 
Saratoga, but it did not follow that she should 
fail here ; and, despite all she had gone through, 
her heart was as happy as a child’s. 

“ Do I look much worn ? Are my cheeks 
pale ?” she asked, eagerly, that same day. “ I — 
I wish so much that you had such a thing about 
as a hand mirror. I want so much to know how 
I look.” 

“ Oh !” she cried, with a cry of alarm, as her 
little hand crept voluntarily to her head, “ some 
one has cut off my hair — all my long, dark, beau- 
tiful curls that Gilbert used to admire so much !” 
she sobbed, under her breath. 

“It was very necessary, Miss,” replied the 
nurse ; “ the fever in your head might have cost 
you your life. Be thankful your life is saved.” 


THIS BLEAK WORLD. 


353 


“I know,” replied Nadine. “I am thankful, 
but, you see, I don’t quite like to look like a 
fright.” 

“ You are quite as beautiful as you ever were, I 
should say. Nothing could be prettier than those 
little curls that cluster in tiny rings about your 
head. You have seen the picture of fair children 
with just such crisp little curls running all over 
their heads. You look like that.” 

The description rather pleased Nadine. 

“Won’t you please sit down again?” Nadine 
entreated, as the woman rose to leave the narrow 
little apartment called by courtesy a state-room. 
“I have a few questions to ask you, and — and — a 
favor.” 

The woman sat down. She knew, with keen 
intuition, what was coming, but her face did not 
betray it ; she waited calmly, immovably, for the 
girl to proceed, which Nadine did rather hesita- 
tingly. 

“ I want to talk to you about the gentleman 
who rescued me,” she said, blushing. “ I want 
you to tell me if he ever inquires about me, and 
all that he has said.” 

The woman’s answer almost paralyzed poor 
Nadine. 


354 


A DARING SCHEME. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

A DARING SCHEME SUCCESSFULLY CARRIED OUT. 

“No,” replied the nurse, steadily, “he did not 
ask after you. We all thought that was very 
strange.” 

The beautiful color left Nadine’s face. Hope 
died out of her large, dark eyes. A strange pre- 
sentiment of coming evil, which she could not de- 
fine nor shake off, swept over her heart. Perhaps 
he was too ill to ask. 

“Is he better?” she asked, piteously. “I beg 
of you to tell me just how he is. I am so anxious 
to hear.” 

“ He must have entirely recovered, or he would 
not have been allowed to leave the vessel,” the 
woman replied. 

Nadine struggled up, her face pale as death. 
Had she heard aright ? There was a confused 
ringing in her ear — a sound like the surging of 
far-off cataracts — the narrow confines of the 
apartment seemed to be closing in upon her and 
taking her breath from her. The world seemed 
in an instant of time to grow dark as Hades and 
stand suddenly still. 


A DARING SCHEME. 


355 


“ Left — the — vessel !” she repeated, vaguely, in 
a voice that sounded like nothing human. “ Do 
you mean to tell me the gentleman is gone — that 
he is not aboard this vessel ?” 

The woman nodded. 

“How could he go?” cried Nadine, hoarsely. 
“ It is impossible !” 

“You will not say that when I explain in a few 
words how it happened,” retorted the woman, 
continuing: “When the gentleman first recov- 
ered from the effect of the wreck, finding him- 
self on board our ship, he was angry — yes, angry 
— that fate had spared him. He sent for the cap- 
tain at once, and, of course, I had to go and inter- 
pret to the captain what he said. He wanted to 
be informed when the next English vessel passed 
us, offering the captain a large sum of gold if he 
would manage so that he could be taken aboard. 
And the captain did manage it for the American, 
but he would not take his gold. The captain 
said : 

“ ‘ What about the lady, sir, that you rescued? 
Would you like to take her along with you ? We 
are making a long trip, and it will not be pleasant 
for her. Being your own countrywoman you 
should take her in charge.’ 

“ He turned to me so fiercely that I recoiled. 


356 


A DARING SCHEME. 


I did not know that there was so much spirit 
about the American — and fairly trembled with 
rage. 

j “ ‘ Tell the captain I say “ No !” ’ he thundered. 

‘ Take her to Liberia, China — anywhere ! She is 
nothing to me !’ ” 

Nadine had listened with wildly dilated eyes, 
and face so pale that the woman feared in carry- 
ing out the captain’s instructions that she would 
be the means of causing the girl to drop dead on 
her pillow. 

“Do you care?” she questioned. “Tell me, 
poor girl, did you love him ?” 

No answer fell from Nadine’s lips, and thinking 
it the greatest kindness she could do her, she rose 
quietly and quitted the room. 

She found the captain pacing the deck. He 
frowned as he saw her coming toward him, and 
greeted her with a fierce imprecation for disturb- 
ing his meditations. 

“ I bring you news of the girl,” she said, chafing 
at his treatment of her. “'I have told her all 
that you desired.” 

“Well,” he answered, fiercely, in his native 
Italian, “how does she take it? She believes, of 
course, that affairs are just as you have told her ?” 

“She believes I have spoken the truth,” the 


A DARING SCHEME. 


357 


woman answered ; “and, now that I have done 
your bidding, I ask for the reward you promised 
should be mine and Rienzi my husband’s. Surely 
you will not go back on your word, Captain. 
You promised to make Rienzi the first mate of 
the vessel.” 

“It shall be done all in good time,” returned 
the captain. “You American women are too 
precipitate. There’s time enough for that,” and 
the burly Italian captain turned on his heel and 
left her. 

“ He shall make Rienzi first mate, as he prom- 
ised, or I will save the girl from him, even at the 
last moment,” she muttered, looking after the 
tall, disappearing figure with revengeful eyes. 

Nadine often wondered how it happened that 
she did not die then and there, when she looked 
back to that dark scene in the after years. 

Once again pride stepped in, swaying her soul, 
and saved her heart from breaking. 

“ He has deserted me with less thought than he 
would have deserted a lame sparrow,” she told 
herself, “and I will teach myself to hate him, 
even though he did save me, though it take me a 
lifetime. If he had known who it was, he would 
never have come back to save me. How surprised 
he must have been when he made the discovery 


358 


A DARING SCHEME. 


at daylight that it was I. I wonder that he did 
not fling me back into the waves from which he 
had dragged me ; then he would have been sure 
of never seeing me again / 5 she ruminated, 
bitterly. 

To her annoyance, every hour in the day she 
was the recipient of little messages brought by the 
nurse from the captain, the words either prefacing 
or following the message, “ how much the bold, 
handsome captain was in love with her . 55 

In vain she had begged the woman to tell her 
when an American vessel was sighted ; for the 
thought of a voyage to Liberia filled her now with 
the greatest horror. 

She had one thing to be thankful for : she had 
seen her Aunt Hester lowered into the first life- 
boat. She had been separated from her by the 
crowd that pushed past her. She felt sure she 
had been saved, but how terribly her aunt must be 
worrying over her fate. 

They passed many vessels, some, too, displaying 
that most welcome of all sights on foreign waters 
and in foreign lands — the American stars and 
stripes. 

Nadine prayed this woman to hail them. 

“You must speak to the captain about that,” 
she would declare. “Avoid him as much as 


A DARING SCHEME. 


359 


you like ; sooner or later you will be obliged to 
meet him. and this, Nadine knew, was perfectly 
true. 

Her great anxiety urged her to see him at once. 
Every hour was bearing her further and further 
away from the path of the American steamers. 

Nadine had, as she used to phrase it in those 
old, saucy college days, “ a fair smattering ” of the 
Italian language. She could put it to good use 
now, for the first time in her life. 

She found the captain pacing the deck, as was 
his usual custom. He came forward with alac- 
rity, most agreeably surprised when she asked 
him in his native language if she could have just 
a few words with him. 

“ As many as you like, Signora,” he answered, 
gallantly, placing a seat for her, which Nadine 
declined. 

He listened to her quietly enough when she 
begged him to kindly return her to her home and 
friends ; but the smile on his face as he listened 
disconcerted her more than the most vehement 
refusal could have done. At last he spoke : 

“ When a fisherman finds a pearl, is he likely 
to cast it back into the waters again, do you 
think?” he asked. <r Or when a weary traveler, 
in crossing a tract of burning, sandy desert, comes 


360 


A DARING SCHEME. 


across a tract of fertile, flowery land, is he apt to 
turn and leave it ? 

“ Why do men shoot down beautiful plumage 
birds if they cannot capture them without ? I 
answer, to possess them. I am like the fisher- 
man, the traveler and the marksman. I cannot 
cast you away from me. I cannot leave you. In 
a word, you must be mine, fair girl. 

“ I come of a nation different from you Ameri- 
cans. My ancestors were warriors connected with 
the history of Italy since its early days. We are 
a race of men never conquered in war or love. 
We gain that which we desire, if we fight our 
way through seas of blood for it. From the first 
moment my eyes fell on you, I said to myself, ‘ I 
love her — she must be mine.’ ” 

“ In my country ladies decline a love which is 
not pleasing to them,” said Nadine, with spirit. 
“I decline yours, most decidedly. I hope you 
will never refer to it again. I refuse to go with 
this ship to Liberia. I demand to be set ashore 
at the first stopping place.” 

“ That will be a lone island, which we will 
reach in a few days’ time,” he said, tauntingly. 
“We stop therefor products ; though the natives 
are hostile to our crews. A woman would fare 
ill in these savages’ hands.” 


A DARING SCHEME. 


361 


Although a sudden pang of fear shot through 
the girl’s heart, she was no coward. 

44 Better that than go to Liberia,” she replied, 
haughtily. 

4 4 1 am not the person to take my command 
from a woman,” he said, with equal hauteur. 
44 Men command, women obey. I love you, my 
girl ; but there is such a thing as love turning to 
hate through contradiction. Go to Liberia with 
me you shall. As to whether you shall ever 
return from there, depends upon yourself. You 
will learn— my word is law.” 

Too angry to find words in which to reply, 
Nadine turned abruptly away, and hurried to her 
apartment. 

44 1 shall never go to Liberia with this vessel — 
never !” she sobbed, throwing herself on her 
knees. f 4 1 would rather cast myself back into 
the waves from which Gilbert rescued me. Oh, 
my love ! my love !” she moaned, “why did you 
desert me, and leave me to a fate like this V ’ 


362 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

FAITHFUL EVEN UNTO DEATH. 

Nadine’s strength and courage almost gave 
way before this new and unexpected danger with 
which she found herself face to face. It seemed 
to her a rentless fate had pursued her from the 
moment her poor father had died and left her 
alone in the great hard, cruel world. 

And kneeling there, looking the desolate future 
in the face, she sobbed as though her heart would 
break. 

Suddenly she was conscious of a sound very 
like a low, cautious tap upon the door ; and as 
she listened intently, the sound was repeated 
more distinctly, this time accompanied by a voice 
whispering : 

“ Do not be afraid, Miss ; I am your friend.” 

The words were spoken in good English ; and 
Nadine had been often informed by the woman 
who had nursed her back to health and strength 
that “ there was not an English-speaking person 
on board the vessel save herself.” Who then, 
was this 2 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


363 


“ Will you come nearer the door, and listen to 
what I have to say ?” whispered the voice. 

Nadine obeyed. 

“I am the boy whom you saw upon deck to- 
day,” went on the cautious voice, hurriedly — 
“the cripple boy to whom you spoke kindly. 
God bless you for those words, Miss. They were 
the only gentle ones I have had addressed to me 
since I was a little child, and they went straight 
to my frozen heart. I was so grateful I could 
have knelt to you, and kissed the hem of your 
garment.” 

Nadine slid back the bolt, and opened the door 
ever so slightly. 

There was no mistake ; it was the cripple boy. 
He stood clearly revealed by the narrow strip of 
white moonlight which fell on his poor, deformed 
body, and pale, upturned face. 

“Yes, I remember,” said Nadine, pityingly, 
forgetting for the moment her own woes in pity 
for the lad. “Is there anything I can do for 
you ?” 

“It is what I can do for you, Miss, that I want 
to talk about,” he replied, in a low whisper. 
“You know I was on deck— I heard all that passed 
between the captain and yourself. He didn’t 
mind my presence no more than if ‘ Cripple Joe,’ 


364 : 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


as he calls me, had been a block of wood or a 
stone. I heard him threaten you, and my blood 
boiled. Oh, if I had but had the strength of other 
men then, I would have felled him to the deck ; 
but I am only a weak cripple.” 

“ And you came to express your sympathy to 
me,” returned Nadine, holding out her hand in 
gratitude. 

“I came to do more,” he whispered ; “I came 
to help you to escape. It is now or never with 
you, for on the morrow the captain intends to 
have the marriage ceremony performed in spite 
of all obstacles. If you dare trust yourself to my 
care, I am here to save you.” 

“I do trust you, I will trust you ; but how, my 
poor boy, can you save me ?” 

“ I have a boat lowered into the water. Come ! 
Though my limbs are weak and misshapen, my 
arms are strong. I can row. We are near a 
port we passed within the hour. The town lights 
gleaming faintly in the distance will guide me.* 
The moon is now obscured by clouds. Before 
morning there will be a terrible storm ; but I hope 
we will have reached those lights ere it sets in. 
We will not be missed until to-morrow. Then 
you will be safe.” 

Tears sprang to Nadine’s eyes. 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


365 


“Think of the terrible vengeance this Italian 
captain would wreak upon you if he should dis- 
cover ever that you aided me,” she said, anx- 
iously. “ He is sure to follow us, you know.” 

“ I have thought of all that,” returned Joe, 
calmly, “and for your sake, Miss, I am willing 
to risk it. I would risk a thousand lives, if I had 
them, for your sake. Will you trust me ?” 

The gratitude that flashed over Nadine’s face 
was more eloquent than any words could have 
been, but she murmured, quickly : 

“I trust you implicitly, Joe.” 

He drew her little hand hurriedly within his 
arm, and helped her cautiously out on deck. 

How dark the night was ! The storm would 
be upon them sooner than he had anticipated, Joe 
noticed, wrapping an oil-skin coat about his com 
panion, which had been the only one he could pro- 
cure, consequently having to go without himself. 

They had scarcely advanced a dozen paces ere 
the storm commenced in earnest. Thunder 
rolled in the darkling heavens, and vivid light- 
ning flashed as if the very floodgates of an upper 
world were flung wide open on this terrible yet 
memorable night. How the rain poured and the 
mad wind roared over that vast expanse of angry 
water I 


366 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


Quivering with fear at the wild raging of the 
tempest, yet daring and brave of heart, Nadine 
clasped the outstretched hand, and followed her 
preserver through the impenetrable darkness and 
frightful storm toward the boat which he had 
lowered into the dark, maddened, foam-crested 
waters. 

Not a word was spoken by either of them as 
they made their way silently through the groups 
of chilled, grumbling sailors on deck, lest a foot- 
fall or the slightest noise might betray their 
presence there. But cruel, relentless fate had not 
destined that Nadine should make her escape so 
easily. A blinding blaze of lightning lit up the 
dark heavens, lighting up the surroundings with 
a white glare bright as noonday, revealing to the 
captain, who stood leaning upon the railing on 
deck, the white, upturned faces of the fugitives. 

With a terrible cry of rage, he sprang quickly 
forward, shouting lustily, in his native tongue : 

“Man the boats, lively, my men, and follow 
that fugitive boat ! I will make the man rich for 
life who brings them back. The girl must be 
taken, dead or alive !” 

He pointed his revolver as he spoke at the little 
skiff, which he could see by the lightning’s fitful 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


367 


flashes tossing like an egg-shell on the angry 
waves, and fired. He heard a cry, and in the red, 
instantaneous glare that lit up the heavens he 
saw one of the figures throw up its hands and 
fall to the bottom of the skiff. 

He surmised that it might be Joe whom he had 
hit, and that surmise proved to be quite correct. 

“ Oh, you are wounded !” sobbed Nadine, kneel- 
ing down beside the poor fellow in the rocking 
skiff. “ And I am the cause of it all, for if it 
had not been for trying to help me escape this 
would never have happened ! Oh, never ! never ! 
What if you were to die !” 

“ It is better to die for a good cause than to live 
for an evil one , 5 5 answered Joe, with great diffi- 
culty. The pain each instant was growing more 
intense, for he had received a mortal wound, and 
his moments were numbered, he well knew. “ Do 
not grieve for me, Miss , 55 he whispered, huskily. 
“ I am not worthy of it. But it is sweet to know, 
if I do die, it will be for your sake . 55 

“Oh, do not say that , 55 cried Nadine, in the 
utmost distress. “You must not — you shall not 
die. Heaven would not reward you so for an act 
of mercy. I will watch by you and tend you 
faithfully until you are well and strong again . 55 

She could not see how pale his face was, nor 


368 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


could she note in the impenetrable darkness the 
agony in his eyes. 

“ Hold my hands,” he whispered ; “ your gentle 
touch will make life sweeter while it lasts.” 

He was only a rash boy of eighteen, and he had 
faced death for her sake. How could she find it 
in her heart to chide him ? 

“ Do not be angry,” he sighed. “ Listen to me. 
I am going to drop myself overboard. They will 
pick me up. Don’t you see the boat they have 
put out gaining on us ? And picking me up will 
divert attention from you. You will soon be far 
away ; you will never know whether I live or 
die. But before we part tell me that you will 
never forget me. Let me finish by telling you 
that I have dared to care for you. My last prayer 
will be that you may never know what torture a 
hopeless affection is. No human pain can equal 
it. I think that it is better for me to die than to 
live on with such a cruel wound as this, which 
could never heal, in my heart.” 

“ Poor boy ! poor boy !” 

These were the only words Nadine could utter 
through her choking sobs. 

In vain she pleaded with Joe to remain in the 
skiff and let her watch over him while life and 
death hung in the balance. 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


369 


“ I know best, Miss,” he responded, faintly. “ I 
— I must draw attention from you to myself. 
Good-bye ! good-bye !” 

“It is far better to die in the waves than be 
taken alive,” muttered the brave fellow, setting 
his teeth hard together for the death leap. 

There was a plunge, a fearful rocking of the 
little shell-like boat to which Nadine clung so 
frantically, and the waves closed over all that 
was mortal of poor, faithful Joe. 

Heaven had been merciful to him. With the 
great exertion of making the leap, the frail thread 
of life snapped asunder, and the soul left the 
cramped confines of its human tenement ; it was 
only the poor, frail, lifeless body the wild waves 
received and closed over with such mad glee. 

On and on over the mad waves the little skiff 
was tossed, whither Nadine must trust to God ; 
and kneeling down in the bottom of the boat, she 
clasped her white hands and prayed to the pitying 
angels to watch over her. 

And the angels did watch over her, for when 
the gray light of morning broke through the dark 
cloud she found that her little bark had drifted 
shoreward ; she was near a little village. 

She grasped the oars and headed the little skiff 


370 


“I LOVE HIM 8TILL.” 

for the pier, and very soon, much to her intense 
thankfulness and joy, was on terra firma. 

Faint and weak with what she had gone 
through, Nadine walked up the village street, 
sinking upon the door-step of a quaint, hospitable 
house, too exhausted to take another step. The 
white cottages, the grass-grown streets, the green 
hedge-rows, and blue sky, with its white clouds, 
seemed whirling around her. She saw a woman’s 
figure emerge from a doorway — a strangely fa- 
miliar figure— and the next instant the inmates 
of the house were startled by a piercing scream. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

“i LOVE HIM STILL.” 

“Oh ! it’s Nadine ! — my own darling little Na- 
dine !” cried a voice excitedly ; and glancing 
up in dazed bewilderment, Nadine found herself 
looking up into the dear face of Aunt Hester. 

u Oh, Naddy ! Naddy !” she cried, hugging her 
rapturously, and laughing and crying over her in 
the same breath ; “ where did you come from, 
dear ? How did you get here ? I— I almost think 
you dropped from the clouds ! Here, everybody ! 


371 


“ I LOYE HIM STILL.” 

— quick, here, somebody !” she called out, 
sharply. “ Somebody come and carry my niece 
into the house ! She is found whom I mourned 
as dead. Oh ! I am so glad, so happy, I could 
dance for very joy !” 

The two peasants who had come from the house 
to do her bidding with alacrity looked at each 
other with broad grins as they listened. 

The idea of this prim, ancient, grim American 
lady dancing was so ludicrous they both laughed 
outright. They could not imagine such a spec- 
tacle. 

(< What are you standing there laughing for?” 
cried Aunt Hester, with asperity. “ Didn’t I tell 
you to pick this young girl up from the doorstep 
and carry her into the house at once ? Oh, dear ! 
oh, dear ! what stupid people ! You will drive me 
crazy with your slow, plodding ways ! Take this 
young girl up to my room instantly ! Bring hot 
blankets — hot water — wine — and bring them at 
once ! Do you understand ? I’ll pay you well for 
it,” she added. 

And, no matter what else they did not under- 
stand, they comprehended the last part of her 
remark, and executed her order with alacrity. 
The meeting between aunt and niece was a most 


372 “i LOYE HIM STILL.” 

joyful one, for each had believed the other lost, 
aud had mourned for her. 

Aunt Hester’s story was substantially as fol- 
lows : She had been placed in one of the life-boats ? 
despite her shrieks and attempts to struggle back 
through the panic-stricken throng to find her 
niece, every one assuring her that her niece was 
in one of the other boats, and quite as safe as her- 
self ; and she was at length forced to believe it. 

They were, fortunately, within a day’s distance 
of this little port, which the boat she was in 
reached late the following night. Kind people 
received them, and here they remained until other 
vessels came in, on which they embarked on 
their journey, Aunt Hester alone remaining, 
writing vainly to every port to find some trace of 
her lost niece. At length all the life-boats and 
their occupants were heard from, and Nadine was 
with neither of them. Then her heart had sunk, 
and she mourned her darling as lost, and had just 
made up her mind to take the next homeward- 
bound steamer for New York, when Nadine 
“ dropped from the clouds,” as she expressed it. 

She listened with breathless attention to 
Nadine’s story of her own rescue, which was 
more thrilling than any web woven by romancer 
or novelist, and her surprise was as great as 


373 


“I LOVE HIM STILL.’' 

Nadine’s had been to learn that Gilbert Wetherell 
had been on board. 

Nadine gave her a minute detail of all that had 
taken place, tears coming to her lovely eyes when 
she confessed how he had deserted her — left her to 
her fate on board the Italian vessel the moment 
he was strong enough to leave secretly by himself ; 
of the persecution she had endured by the Italian 
captain falling in love with her, and insisting she 
should marry him ; and of her rescue by poor Joe, 
which accounted for her being where she was. 

Aunt Hester confessed herself strangely puzzled 
by Gilbert Wetherell’s conduct. Why he should 
save Nadine at the peril of his own life, and after- 
ward desert her, was to her an unexplainable 
mystery. 

There was one thing plainly apparent to her, 
gloss it over as much as she chose, and that 
was — Gilbert Wetherell had ceased to love Nadine, 
and would not remain in her presence — was glad 
to be free from her. 

It would never do for Nadine to sit grieving in 
silence over him. Nothing eats the heart out so 
quickly and makes life so unbearable as a secret 
sorrow. She must rouse her pride — teach her to 
hate him, if she could ; anything was better than 
that she should mourn for him— loving him still. 


3 74 


I LOVE HIM STILL. 


« 


5> 


For a fortnight Nadine was unable to leave her 
room, but during that time Aunt Hester gave her 
little time for brooding or thinking. If W etherelPs 
name was by chance mentioned by Nadine, she 
would toss her scant locks in superb disdain, de- 
claring, energetically : 

“ If you are nothing to him — he is nothing to 
you. He has forfeited even our respect, despite 
the service he rendered you, my dear. To tell 
you the truth, lam beginning to actually despise 
the sound of his name.” 

After that, Nadine never mentioned him ; for, 
although she told herself she had ceased to love 
him, it grieved her to the soul to hear even her 
aunt speak harshly of him. It was decided that 
they should return home at once, giving up their 
intention of doing France, Germany and Spain. 
Aunt Hester declared that she had had enough of 
traveling to do her a life time, and if the Lord 
spared her to get back safely to the farm, no 
power on earth should ever tempt her to leave it 
again. Two lone women had no business to be 
traveling about foreign countries in pursuit of 
pleasure, when hedged in by so many difficulties. 

It mattered little enough to Nadine where she 
was ; all places were alike dreary to her. How 
often she thought of the lines : 


375 


“i LOVE HIM STILL. ” 

“ Just a little year ago, 

You were all to me ; 

Even yet I scarcely know 
How such things can be. 

“ Did you mean it all the time ? 

Were you false or true ? 

Is it change of place or clime 
That has altered you ? 

“Did you think to love me still ? 

Did your fancy stray ? 

Did you change against your will 
When you went away ? 

“ Little did my soul divine 
That the- year would see 
Your dear heart close knit to mine, 

Drift away from me. 

“Just a little year ago ! 

Ah ! my eyes are wet ! 

Cruel love ! do you not know 
I can ne’er forget ?” 

Such sad, beautiful lines, Nadine thought, that 
seemed written for just such a heart as hers. 

Nadine and her aunt returned to New York 
just as the leaves of the trees in the park were 
changing from green to gold. 

“ I cannot go back to the farm, aunt,” she said, 
as they paced the deck together on the last even- 
ing on the steamer ; the quiet, hum-drum existence 


376 


I LOYE HIM STILL. 


U 

would kill me. I— I would die of ennui ; I would, 
indeed.” 

“ No doubt your Aunt Dorchester and Maud have 
left Saratoga by this time, and are domiciled at 
the villa. Would you like to go to them ?” 

“ No, no !” exclaimed Nadine, drawing back. 
“ I must be away from them. I am never happy 
where they are.” 

“But where could you go? Where do you 
wish to go, Nadine ?” asked her aunt, anxiously. 

“ I will tell you my plan, if you will promise 
not to thwart me in it,” Nadine replied. “Weigh 
well beforehand my situation. I must find 
something to fill my life every hour— every 
minute of it, to keep me from remembering what 
I am trying to forget. You will think of that, 
Aunt Hester, before replying, and do not try to 
persuade me to relinquish my idea.” 

“Certainly,” said her aunt, looking at her in 
wonder. “You have aroused my curiosity, Na- 
dine. Now, what is it ?” 

“ I have made up my mind to go on the operatic 
stage,” replied Nadine, quietly. 

She was hardly prepared for the shriek of dis- 
may that broke from her aunt’s lips. 

“ On the stage !” Aunt Hester gasped. “ Sure- 
ly, you don’t mean it, Nadine. You couldn’t. 


I LOVE HIM STILL. 


377 






Why, I’d just as soon see you lying dead before 
me. I never stepped my foot inside of a play- 
house, and I never will. You’ll never have my 
consent to that, Nadine — never !” 

‘‘I do not mean to be an actress,” replied Na- 
dine. “ I should like to be like Jenny Lind. 
You have never ceased talking about her, aunt ; 
how she came to an humble little church you 
were attending years ago, and, joining in the 
simple hymns, held the congregation spell-bound 
by the witchery of her magic voice, swaying 
them as she would, like a leaflet in the wind. 
When she sang about Christ on the cross women 
sobbed aloud, and there were tears in the eyes of 
strong men. Think how much good she did the 
world, aunt. I — I— should like to be like her.” 

“ You could never be like Jenny Lind, Naddy. 
It is a wild notion. ” 

“I should like to try,” returned Nadine, look- 
ing over the waters. 

“ Perhaps if I grew great and famous, aunt, he 
might feel sorry he had treated me so cruelly. I 
— I should like to let him see that other people 
would care for me.” 

Ah ! that was the keynote, then, of her ambi- 
tion. “ Poor child ! how fondly you must love 
him still.” 


378 


RECOGNIZED. 


“Well, Nadine,” she said, at length. “I will 
not oppose your wishes, if you have really set 
your heart on this step. I cannot hold out the 
hope to you that you will ever be like Jenny Lind 
or Patti ; still, you sing very sweetly — I have 
always said that. Do as you like, dear ; fill your 
mind up with music, singing — anything rather 
than that your thoughts should dwell on him.” 

Grim Aunt Hester was not given to poetry, yet 
somehow the words of a beautiful sonnet she had 
heard somewhere occurred to her : 

“ Love I him ? Though scorned and slighted, 

Thrown like worthless weed apart — 

Feelings seared, affections blighted — 

Love him ? Yes, with all my heart ! 

With a passion superhuman ; 

Constancy, thy name is woman!” 


CHAPTER XL. 

RECOGNIZED. 

Two years have passed away. It is spring — 
beautiful spring — in Northern Italy, and here, 
under the sunny skies, with a party of American 
tourists, we find a familiar face — a handsome, 
sun-browned American. 


RECOGNIZED. 


379 


The light suit he wears ; the straw hat, with 
the blue band around it, are becoming — extremely 
becoming — so the young ladies of the place think. 
But this handsome American is indifferent to the 
brightest eyes and most coy glances and bewil- 
dering smiles of lovely maidens. 

He has been an incessant traveler. Too rest- 
less to remain long in one place, he has hurried 
his friends about in a manner which they would 
resent if it were any one else than Gilbert 
Wetherell. 

They have been in Italy scarcely a fortnight, 
yet they have seen all the places worth seeing. 
Wetherell has kept them constantly on the go. 

In Italy, Wetherell and all save one of his tour- 
ist friends part ; for Wetherell and his friend 
Sanford are about to return to London, and 
thence, after a few weeks’ sojourn, to America. 

A heavy, gray, impenetrable fog wraps the city 
a 3 they step out of their compartment in the rail- 
way carriage ; and this is not a pleasant prospect 
for Wetherell, for it will keep him hotel-bound 
until it lifts, and he heartily detests that. 

“ Suppose we drop into Her Majesty’s Theatre, 
and take in the new opera,” suggests Sanford. 
“ If one can judge by newspaper comments, the 
prima donna who fills the title role is something 


380 


RECOGNIZED. 


quite out of the ordinary. One of our country • 
women, by the way. We ought to be chivalrous 
enough to swell her coffers with our American 
dollars. ” 

“ I agree,” returned Wetherell, indifferently. 
“ But I cannot promise you to sit the whole affair 
through. Too much of a bore, you know.” 

“They say this prima donna is young and 
lovely,” pursued his friend, knocking the ashes off 
a choice Havana with his boot-heel. 

“ Oh, of course,” smiled W T etherell. “No one 
ever disputes that every woman is young and 
beautiful.” 

“ This one is an exception,” declared his friend. 
“She was pointed out to me on horseback one 
day, as I was driving down Rotten Row. She is 
the perfection of grace, and she handled the rib- 
bons like a thoroughbred. Her face is simply 
indescribable — flashing dark eyes and cheeks like 
two blown roses. Yes, she is young, I assure 
you. It was nature, and not art there.” 

Toward night the heavy fog lifted, and in the 
early evening it was as clear as a London atmos- 
phere, heavy with smoke, could possibly be. 

They took a hansom cab and drove direct to 
the theatre. Every place where their eyes rested 


RECOGNIZED. 


381- 


they read on the flaming billboards, as they * 
whirled quickly past them : 

“ Mile. Lorlie To-night , as the Princess of Thule.” 

Lorlie in white bill ; Lorlie in blue ; Lorlie in 
crimson and gold. The city was fairly flooded 
with the advertisements of the lovely debutante — 
nay, more, the young operatic queen that had 
taken the great heart of cold, critical London by 
actual storm. 

There was a pretty opening prelude, that was 
quite a go with the audience at once. 

Wetherell and his friend occupied a prominent 
box, indifferently scanning the vast throng that 
filled the spacious theatre, until a crash in the 
music warned the audience to turn their gaze 
stage ward. 

The silver bell tinkled softly ; the orchestra 
bent to their task ; the curtain went up with a 
silken rustling rush ; one of the dewy roses in 
the center of a magnificent garden parted, and 
from out of the crimson heart of the swaying 
flower the princess stepped timidly forth, out into 
the broad, glittering glare of the white calcium 
lights, and the full gaze of the vast audience. 

The orchestra leader flourished his baton in his 
white kidded hand. There was a burst of bewil- 


382 


RECOGNIZED. 


* dering, crashing music ; but it did not drown out 
the thundering burst of applause that shook the 
house from pit to dome. 

There was a smile of intense delight on every 
face save one, and that one was turned toward 
the stage as white as it would ever be in death. 

“ What is the matter, Wether ell V whispered 
his companion. “You look as though you had 
seen a ghost.” 

“I have seen a ghost,” replied Wetherell, in a 
voice so hoarse and unnatural his friend glanced 
at him in wonder. “A ghost from the past has 
confronted me, and — and — driven me mad !” 

What reply his friend made he never knew. 
He forgot the lights, the vast throng about him, 
and the crashing music ; seeing only the beautiful 
face on the stage before him — a face as beautiful 
as a dream. No wonder the beauty-loving 
audience applauded her to the echo. 

“It was the first appearance of the lovely 
debutante as a full-fledged prima donna,” every 
one whispered. 

As the reader has no doubt surmised ere this, it 
was our own little Nadine. 

For a single instant, as Nadine had stepped out 
into the broad glare of the lights, she was seized 
with stage fright. The faces of the multitude 


RECOGNIZED. 


383 


before her and the dazzling lights seemed to dance 
around her, and the music and the deafening 
applause to terrify her ; even the notes died away 
on her lips. 

“ Begin now,” whispered the prompter, in a 
low, guarded voice, that barely reached her where 
she stood. 

With a mighty effort she took a step forward 
and began the sparkling operatic melody, and in 
that moment she gained her self-possession, and 
her voice rose clear as a bird’s in a strain of 
melody that fairly electrified the audience, and on 
the instant she was a success — the most brilliant 
success that ever dazzled London. 

The curtain was rung down amidst another 
storm of applause ; bouquets were showered upon 
the pretty, silver -throated nightingale, and the 
applause was so hearty and spontaneous that the 
gentlemen with one accord tore the roses from the 
lapels of their coats and showered them at this 
wonderful songstress’ feet. 

In girlish confusion Nadine bowed, raising her 
dark eyes to the sea of faces before her. 

Raised her eyes to a white, startled face regard- 
ing her with the intentness of a magnet — gazed 
for an instant only, and then reeled backward. 

It was fortunate that the curtain went down 


384 


RECOGNIZED. 


with a silken rush just then, or they would have 
seen the slender figure sway to and fro for an 
instant like a leaf in the wind ; then fall face 
downward all in a heap among the roses. 

Sanford shook Wetherell roughly by the arm, 
exclaiming : 

“ Let’s leave the house ! You are ill, my dear 
boy !” 

Wetherell suffered his friend to lead him away 
from the theatre, and as they entered their cab, 
which was in waiting, he exclaimed, hoarsely : 

“ Can two persons in this w r orld resemble each 
other so closely that even those who have loved 
them best can be deceived by this wonderful like- 
ness, if one really exists ? Or is it only a morbid 
feverish fancy that causes one to imagine such a 
resemblance really exists ?” 

“ Without doubt there are persons who re- 
semble each other when seen apart,” answered 
Sanford, carelessly ; “ but I fancy if the same two 
persons were seen together , much of the supposed 
resemblance would undoubtedly vanish on close 
inspection.” 

“ But the voice ! Could the voice, as well as the 
face, take on the same tone ? No, no ! I am 
mad or — dreaming, Sanford. Drive back to the 
theatre. I cannot rest — I cannot sleep until I 


.RECOGNIZED. 


385 


have solved the mystery that is consuming me. 
I cannot make a confidante of you just yet, San- 
ford — the — the — subject is too painful.” 

“As you please,” returned his friend, cheer- 
fully. “ I shall not urge your confidence. Tell 
me what you like ; keep silent when you will. 
Perhaps you would like to return to the theatre 
alone f If so, I will go to the hotel.” 

“ I will join you there within an hour,” said 
Wetherell, huskily, as he wrung his friend’s 
hand. 

“ Back to the theatre,” Wetherell ordered, when 
he found himsdf alone. 

He made his way to the rear entrance, where 
he was confronted by a burly door-keeper. 

“I must see Mile. Lorlie at once,” he cried. 
“ Kindly take a note from me to her. I will give 
you a pound, if you will accept it, for your 
trouble.” 

The man laughed aloud. 

“ Why, bless you, sir, there are lords and dukes 
around here by the score who offered me ten 
times that amount if I would take a note or 
bouquet to the young lady.” 

“Let money be no object! Name your own 
price for taking the note,” exclaimed Wetherell, 
impatiently; adding: “I promise you I will 


386 


“i WILL SEND FOR HIM.” 

stand right here, unless you comply with my 
request, and see her for myself when she comes 
to her carriage. ” 


CHAPTER XLI. 

“i Will lay aside my pride and send for 

HIM.” 

It seemed to Wetherell that he stood long hours, 
motionless, before the door through which this 
woman, who resembled his lost Nadine so fatally, 
must pass, when suddenly, one by one, the lights 
were extinguished. 

“ You’d better be moving on, sir,” said the door- 
keeper, adding, with grim humor : “ The lady has 
been gone some time. She went by way of the 
other entrance.” 

Wetherell’ turned slowly away. 

“Perhaps it is just as well that I did not see 
her,” he muttered, as he re-entered his carriage. 
“I should, no doubt, have made a fool of myself. 
She is not Nadine, so there is the end of it.” 

He drove back to his hotel, and much to his 
friend’s surprise, informed him that he intended 
to leave London that night. 


387 


“ I WILL SEND FOR HIM.” 

A low, incredulous whistle greets this declara- 
tion, and Wetherell is urged to remain ; but he 
will not. The sight of this face, so like Nadine’s, 
has disturbed him — troubled him. 

“You will stay the week out, at least,” per- 
sisted his friend. 

But Wetherell shook his head. 

“I shall leave to-night,” he said. “ Good-bye l” 

Thus they parted, the friend remaining in 
London, and Wetherell setting out for Edinburgh. 

But to return to Nadine. When she had raised 
her head, bowing a graceful acknowledgment of 
the compliments bestowed upon her, as she stood 
in the midst of the shower of roses, she had 
beheld Gilbert Wetherell in the nearest box. 

. How she ever finished the first act she never 
knew. When next she stepped before the foot- 
lights, he was gone. 

4 ‘ Did he recognize me, I wonder ?” she thought, 
excitedly, her heart beating so loudly she was 
sure all those around her must hear it. She 
calmed herself by the greatest effort, and went on 
with her part. 

She fairly staggered from the stage when it was 
all over, and the silken curtain had fallen between 
her and the wildly -enthusiastic, applauding 


388 U 1 WILL SEND FOR HIM.*’ 

multitude, who were still clamoring for one more 
glimpse of the beautiful queen of song. 

She did not re-appear, and they were obliged to 
depart unsatisfied. 

No one knew, save those back of the scenes, 
that when she had reached her dressing-room she 
had fallen down, for the second time that evening, 
in a deep swoon. 

Although Aunt Hester had firmly declared that 
she would never set her foot within the walls of a 
play-house while she lived, she changed her mind 
rather than let Nadine go out of her sight alone. 

It was with the greatest consternation that she 
had heard that Wetherell was in the house, and 
on this particular night, when Nadine needed to 
exert all her courage to make a successful debut.. 

Nadine grew so alarmingly ill — even after she 
had been taken to her suite of rooms in the 
Westminster Palace — that a doctor was sum- 
moned at once. 

“ There is little hope ; she is on the verge of 
brain fever,” he said, quite as soon as he saw his 
beautiful, hapless patient. 

Aunt Hester wrung her hands together in the 
bitterest of agony. 

“ Oh, what shall I do !” she sobbed. “ If I only 
had some one to advise me !” 


I WILL SEND FOR HIM/ 


389 


cc 


A sudden idea had come to her. 

Why not send for Gilbert Wetherell? Surely 
he would not refuse to come to Nadine when she 
lay ill unto death ! She made up her mind to 
humble her pride and send for him, for it was 
pitiful to hear that wailing cry on the feverish 
lips : 

“ Oh, Gilbert, my love, my love, I cannot live 
without you ! Better death than that !” 

“ Nadine,” whispered Aunt Hester, bending 
over her, and smoothing the dark curls back from 
the feverish brow, “ can you hear me and under- 
stand ? I — have— sent for Gilbert Wetherell. He 
must be here very soon now. 5 ’ 

The all-important words fell on deaf ears ; 
Nadine did not understand their import. 

The moments ticked themselves wearily by ; 
fifteen— twenty minutes passed ; an hour rolled 

by- 

“Why did Wetherell not come?” she asked 
herself, impatiently. 

Then the messenger returned with the inform- 
ation, Mr. Wetherell had just left London. 

“ I do not believe that,” Aunt Hester muttered. 
“ He would not come to her, even though she lay 
dying : that is the long and short of the whole 


390 “ I WILL SEND FOR HIM.” 

matter, and never will I forgive him for it — never 
while I have breath to draw.” 

Two weeks passed ; the fever had reached its 
height and was slowly abating. 

“ Nadine would live,” the doctor said. 

Then, for the first time, Aunt Hester relaxed 
her vigil, and consented to take a little needful 
rest, going for a drive down Rotten Row. 

She had proceeded but a short distance, when 
she beheld a carriage approaching her, the occu- 
pant of which held her spell-bound as she gazed 
at him. The gentleman was Gilbert Wetherell. 

He was so engrossed with his thoughts that he 
did not raise his eyes as the two hansom cabs 
passed each other. 

On what strange incidents do human lives turn ! 

Gilbert Wetherell had made his preparations 
for his journey, and was on his way to the rail- 
way station, when a curious mishap occurred. 

The cab in which he was seated collided with 
another. A wheel was torn off, and the horse 
dashed madly down the street, upsetting the vehi- 
cle, and throwing Wetherell heavily to the pave- 
ment. 

Upon examination, when they carried him to 
the nearest drug store, they found him suffering 
from a severely sprained ankle. 


391 


“ I WILL SEND FOR HIM.” 

“ That settles all prospect of leaving London 
for the present,” said Wetherell. “ I may as well 
content myself to stay here ; ” and he was taken 
straightway back to the hotel which he had left 
in such haste. 

It was quite a siege, for an active young man 
like Wetherell, to be house-bound for two long 
and weary weeks. He hailed with delight the 
day on which he was able to make his way out 
of his room, and down to the carriage he had 
ordered to be at the door, and it was while taking 
this drive Aunt Hester had come upon him. 

While confined to his room, his chief occupa- 
tion was acquainting himself with the daily news, 
and among the first paragraphs that he read was 
of the illness, the dangerous illness, of the beauti- 
ful young cantatrice who had so charmed the 
music-loving world on the previous evening. 

How sorry he felt as he read it, for he had 
taken a great interest in this silver- throated 
nightingale— for a double reason — her marvelous 
talent, and because her beautiful face was so like 
his lost Nadine’s. 

Aunt Hester determined, when Nadine was 
fully able to travel, that she should leave London 
at once, despite all the brilliant offers made her to 


remain. 


392 “ I WILL SEND FOR HIM.” 

Aunt Hester had made a score of resolves that 
she should never tell Nadine of this last and most 
despicable action of Wetherell’s, as she called it ; 
but in an unlucky moment, by a slip of the 
tongue, the whole story was out — how she had 
sent for Wetherell while Nadine lay dying, as she 
supposed, and he had refused to come. 

“ I could have told you that he would not,” 
whispered Nadine, in a faint, whispered, choking 
voice. “I am sorry you lowered your pride 
enough to make overtures to him, after what has 
passed.” 

“I know it. I am as sorry as you are, my 
dear,” admitted Aunt Hester ; “ but who would 
have thought a man would have been so mean as 
to refuse such a request as that ? Do you know, 
Nadine,” she went on, energetically, “I am 
beginning to detest Wetherell more than I ever 
liked him ? Why, if I should see him lying grov- 
eling in the gutter, I wouldn’t help him up ! One 
bad turn deserves amother.” 

“ Do not say anything harsh about him, 
aunty,” murmured Nadine. “I — I cannot bear 
it — indeed, I cannot.” 

“I suppose it’s very natural to espouse his 
cause, if you care for him ; but,” added Aunt 
Hester, with energy, “if a man had ever treated 


I WILL SEND FOE HIM. 


393 




me as shamefully as Gilbert Wetherell has treated 
you , I should liate him.” 

“I have tried to, aunt,” sobbed Nadine, “but it 
is useless. We cannot have the power over our 
hearts to love or to hate when we choose.” 

“There is one thing that I should advise you to 
do, if you ever come face to face with him, and 
that is to show your proper pride and resentment 
toward him, Nadine.” 

“You need have no fear of that, Aunt Hester,” 
returned the girl, proudly. “ I shall take good 
care of that. ” 

“Ah ! here is quite a little item in the Figaro 
that may be interesting to you, Nadine,” said 
Aunt Hester, and she proceeded to read the fol- 
lowing article aloud : 

“ The friends of Mr. Gilbert Wetherell, of New 
York, will be pleased to note that he is still at the 
Langham, where he is awaiting the arrival of his 
mother and sister, who are expected on the Co - 
rinthia , which is announced to reach port on 
Wednesday next.” 

Nadine turned away, making no comment, 
though her heart beat strangely ; for with the 
mention of their names a memory of the past 
swept over her. 


394 


HER FACE IS SO FAMILIAR. 


She lived over again the meeting with Gilbert’s 
stately mother, and the beautiful young sister, 
who threw her arms about her, exclaiming : 

“ I am so glad to welcome you to Linden Villa, 
you dear, darling Nadine ! I know I shall love 
you for your own sake, as well as for my 
brother’s.” 

Would Jessie Wetherell say the same words 
now? 


CHAPTER XLII. 

“HER FACE IS so FAMILIAR— I AM SURE WE HAVE 
MET BEFORE.” 

Gilbert Wetherell had just set about leaving 
London, when fate for a second time detained 
him. This time it was in the shape of a letter 
coming very unexpectedly from his sister Jess. 

“ My Darling Brother Gilbert,” she wrote, 
“you will be much amazed, no doubt, to learn 
that mamma and I will reach London in about 
two days after you receive this letter. Our orig- 
inal plan was to take you completely by surprise, 
but fearing you might leave there, we concluded 
to write at almost the last moment. 


HER FACE IS SO FAMILIAR. 


395 


“ Your last letter was so sad you wrote us, we 
know that you are grieving terribly over Nadine 
still. How dreadful it was that you should rescue 
her from the ill-fated steamer, only to have her 
die at sea, after all. And the worst of all was 
that you could not learn, because she was deliri- 
ous, what parted you two. But, then, I must 
not dwell upon that. Mamma says we must try 
to make you forget. 

“ Au revoir until we meet. 

“ Your loving sister, 

Jess.” 

Gilbert was pleased that they were coming. 
The life of ennui he was leading was growing 
intolerable to him. With Jess and his mother to 
look after, his time would be filled ; he would 
have less time to brood over the unhappy past ; 
and he looked forward to their arrival with more 
than an ordinary thrill of pleasure. 

The two intervening days wore away at last, 
and Wednesday brought in the steamer, with the 
two for whom he had watched and waited so 
impatiently on board. 

B6th Mrs. Wetherell and Jess looked at Gilbert 
in dismay as he sprang forward to greet them. 
Was this man, so haggard and old-looking, hand- 


396 


HER FACE IS SO FAMILIAR. 


some, debonair Gilbert ? But they were too wise 
to make any comments. 

A week was spent in sight-seeing, and at the 
end of that time a strange event happened. 

They were walking through the Royal Academy 
of Arts, engrossed in the paintings, when, in 
some unforeseen manner, the three became separ- 
ated. Perhaps Jessie had lingered too long before 
the portrait of a handsome young officer, whose 
dark eyes seemed to smile down into her own. 
When she turned around, her brother and mother 
were nowhere to be seen. All in vain she 
searched for them amidst the dense throng. 

Suddenly, in the midst of her search, she 
stopped short, gazing with breathless intentness 
at a group standing before a famous picture, 
scarcely ten feet distant from her. In the centre 
of the group was a young and lovely girl, whose 
face and dark, sad eyes held her spellbound. 

“ Have I gone suddenly mad, or am I dream- 
ing?” murmured Jessie, below her breath. “If 
ever I saw Nadine in this life, that is she — or — or 
— her ghost,” she added, with a little mirthless, 
shivering laugh. 

The face fascinated her. She could not turn 
away. She drew nearer ; and, acting on a sudden 


HER FACE IS SO FAMILIAR. 


397 


impulse, reached out her hand, laying it lightly 
on the girl’s arm, whispering : 

“ Nadine ! Oh, Nadine ! Is this you ?” 

The other drew back coldly, a shiver passing 
over her whole frame as the little hand, white as 
a lily leaf, brushed against her own. Then she 
turned abruptly away. 

Jessie stood gazing after her, lost in wonder- 
ment, until the vast throng surging to and fro 
hid her, too, from view. 

All at once Jessie remembered her peculiar pre- 
dicament, and that for the moment drove every- 
thing else from her mind. 

“ Dear me,” she murmured, “now how am I 
ever to find Gilbert or mamma, or get back to the 
hotel, as for that matter, without a cent in my 
pockets? It will teach me a lesson — to always 
provide myself with a little change ; it never 
comes amiss.- Oh, how I wish I could find 
Gilbert.” 

Her thoughts were brought to a sudden ter- 
mination by Gilbert himself. 

“ Ah ! here you are,” he cried, making his way 
quickly to her side. “Why did you leave us, 
Jessie, wandering away in that fashion ? Mother 
is quite distracted, declaring she should never see 
you again ; that you were most certainly lost ; 


398 


HER FACE IS SO FAMILIAR. 


and it is no easy matter finding a person who is 
lost in London. Come ; I will take you to mother 
at once.” 

“ Gilbert,” said Jessie, in a low whisper, as they 
elbowed their way through the dense throng of 
sight-seers, “ I have seen a — a — ghost a little while 
since.” 

The young man smiled. 

“ I did not know they could paint a very true 
picture of one of those invisible visionary ob- 
jects.” 

“ It is not a real ghost that I saw. Oh, Gilbert, 
it was not a picture that I saw. It was a woman 
with — with — Nadine’s face ! Nadine, whom you 
tell me is buried deep in the ocean. I went up to 
her ; I touched her hand, calling : 4 Nadine ! 
Nadine ! don’t you know me V I was so sure it 
was she. When I spoke to her she turned from 
me, Gilbert, with the coolest kind of a nod, as 
much as to say, I prefer that we should be strang- 
ers. 

“ You tell me, Gilbert, that Nadine is dead, but 
I tell you solemnly, if I ever looked upon her in 
life, that is she.” 

Again Gilbert Wetherell smiled, much to Jes- 
sie’s amazement. She had expected him to dis- 
play the most intense emotion. 


HER FACE IS SO FAMILIAR. 


399 


“I can understand, Jessie,” he said. “Of 
course, you thought it was Nadine, the resem- 
blance was so great. Although I knew she was 
dead, the same conviction came to me. I assure 
you, Jessie, the young girl whom you saw is the 
prima donna whom you expressed the wish to go 
and hear yesterday. I went to hear her, and the 
resemblance between her and my lost Nadine was 
so great I left my box ill — yes, ill. ” 

“ Brother,” said Jessie, earnestly, “ how do you 
know that Nadine is really dead ? Did you see 
her lying pale and cold before you ?” 

“No,” he returned, sadly ; “I learned it from 
the captain of the steamer who rescued us. As I 
wrote you, for days I lay ill ; when I recovered 
reason, struggling back to life at the same time, 
he told me how she died. You know it would 
have been impossible to have kept her, and — they 
buried my beautiful darling at sea.” 

Jessie said no more ; still she was sorely puz- 
zled. 

“I should like to hear this silver-throated 
cantatrice that resembles our Nadine so much,” 
she said. “ Would you mind taking mother and 
me to hear her ? I should like it above all 
things.” 

“She has refused to sing in London again at 


400 


HER FACE IS SO FAMILIAR. 


any price, I read, 1 ’ he answered, “ so I am unable 
to gratify you, Jessie. She leaves for Edinburgh 
some day this week.” 

Jessie’s face brightened. 

“ As we go to Edinburgh this week, I shall be 
able to hear her there, Gilbert, which will be 
quite as well.” 

“ Ah, yes, certainly ; that quite escaped me ; of 
course you will,” he said, smiling, and dismissed 
the matter from his thoughts. But not so Jessie ; 
the face so like Nadine’s haunted her. 

She was an impatient girl ; she never could 
brook delay. It seemed to her a long while to 
wait till the end of the week ere her curiosity 
should be gratified. 

“ If I could but see her before she left London,” 
she thought ; and that idea seemed to take hold 
of Jessie’s mind, and possess her. 

She knew she was stopping at the Westminster 
Palace, and the thought occurred to her, Why 
not call on her ? Most noted artists had reception 
days set apart for the dear public, who were wont 
to worship at their shrine ; of course, this must 
be the case with the beautiful songstress, whom 
London called, “the silver-throated nightingale.” 

“ I should like to be brought face to face with 
this creature who looks so much like our Nadine. 


HER FACE IS SO FAMILIAR. 


401 


I will do it;,” thought Jess, the mischievous dim- 
ples playing on her pretty, rounded red cheeks. 
“ The only trouble is, mamma would not listen to 
it, and I should have to have a chaperon, I sup- 
pose. But no, I won't have a chaperon. I will 
go and call upon her all by myself. They shall 
not know of my adventure.” 

And when pretty, willful Jessie made up her 
mind to do a thing she was pretty sure to accom- 
plish it. 

And this determination was strengthened the 
next day after she had made it by their carriage 
passing that of the lovely young cantatrice on 
one of the fashionable boulevards. 

The very pose of the head was Nadine’s own — 
the pretty drooping of the long silken lashes over 
the cheeks was quite the same. 

Suddenly Mrs. Wetherell, who sat beside her in 
the hansom cab, grasped her arm with a stifled 
cry. 

“ What is the matter, mamma ?” cried Jessie, 
in alarm. 

“ I — I— am quite ashamed to confess what was 
the matter,” murmured Mrs. Wetherell, “it is so 
absurd ; still I will be frank with you. In the 
carriage we just passed I thought I saw — Nadine. 
For a moment I quite forgot that she was dead. 


402 


FACE TO FACE. 


The resemblance between her and the person we 
just passed was most striking, my dear. 5 ’ 

“ I noticed her, mamma. I saw the same 
young lady in the art gallery this week, and re- 
marked her strange likeness at the time.” 

“ Not to me,” said Mrs. Wetherell, wonder- 
ingly. 

“ No, to brother Gilbert,” returned Jess ; “ and 

he said that she was the prima donna, Mile. . 

The name just at this moment escapes me. I 
meant to mention the matter to you at the time, 
but most probably forgot it.” 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

NADINE AND JESSIE MEET FACE TO FACE. 

So fully imbued with the idea of calling upon 
the prima donna had Jessie become, she could not 
rest until she had put it into execution. It w r as 
a great disappointment to her to learn that the 
young lady had but that morning left London. 

“ Well, no matter,” murmured Jessie, as she 
drove back to her own hotel, “ I shall see her in 
Edinburgh. It is as well that I made a confidant 


FACE TO FACE. 


403 


of no one to laugh over my failure and discom- 
fiture.” 

Jessie was delighted to find, when they reached 
charming, Scottish Edinburgh, that the lovely 
young cantatrice was stopping at the same hotel. 

“ Now she shall not evade me,” was her mental 
comment. 

They arrived too late for their names to be 
inserted among the list of arrivals, and this was 
how the strange accident that brought about the 
meeting of Wetherell and Nadine face to face at 
last came about. 

Jessie Wetherell was walking along under the 
trees in the pleasure grounds connected with the 
quaint old hotel, when she became suddenly 
aware of a pair of very sharp eyes regarding her 
intently. They belonged to a tall, angular female 
standing by the fountain. 

As fate would have it, a scurrying breeze took 
the handkerchief she held so loosely from her 
hand and whirled it directly at Jessie’s feet. 

“ Allow me to return it to you,” said Jessie, 
pleasantly, handing her the bit of cambric with a 
smile, rather amused than otherwise with the in- 
tent ness with which the lady continued to observe 
her, and mentally concluding: “I shouldn’t be 
surprised if she should recognize me the next time 


404 


FACE TO FACE. 


she beheld me. She has taken me all in, from my 
tip -tilted nose to the sharp curve of my Oxford 
ties.” 

“ It is a warm morning,” said Jess, innocently, 
as she dropped down on the nearest rustic seat. 

“ Yes,” was the curt rejoinder. 

“ I am afraid I annoy you by sitting here,” said 
Jess, dropping the novel she had brought along 
with her under her arm to read beneath the shade- 
trees. 

“ I do not see why you could possibly think 
that, Miss,” returned the other, curtly, “for the 
grounds are free to all.” 

“ Aren’t you an American lady ! A lady from 
somewhere around New England ?” inquired Jess. 

“ Yes,” returned the other, again. “ Why ?” 

“ I judged so from your speech and mannerism,” 
replied Jess, adding demurely : “I am an Ameri- 
can. I delight meeting my own countrywomen.” 

“ Your face is familiar,” said her companion, 
who the reader has long ere this, no doubt, 
judged to be Aunt Hester, which supposition is 
quite correct. 

“ I never remember having met you before,” 
smiled Jess. 

“ Have you been in Edinburgh long?” inquired 
Aunt Hester. 


FACE TO FACE. 


405 


u We arrived only to-day,” replied Jess. 

“She looks so like him,” muttered Aunt 
Hester, under her breath ; “ but it cannot be pos- 
sible that she is his sister— the one of whom I 
have read. May I ask your name ?” asked Aunt 
Hester, anxiously. 

“Certainly,” replied the girl, naively. “I’m 
Jessie Wetherell, of New York, United States of 
America.” 

Aunt Hester’s face grew as white as her collar. 
She turned like a flash, and walked swiftly away. 

“ Dear me !” cried Jess, with a merry little 
laugh, that sounded sweet and breezy, “I 
shouldn’t wonder if I had made an enemy for life 
by my levity. I ought to have had more common 
sense than to attempt to say anything like that 
before such a woman. 

“ I will engross myself in my book until after 
luncheon,” she mused, “ and then I will put my 
pet project into execution. I will see the divine 
songstress if she is visible.” 

The story Jess was reading proved so attractive 
the hours flew by unheeded. She grew intensely 
interested in the hero, Daniel Deronda, and the 
fair Gwendolen. 

“ I shall have to give up going anywhere until 
I get to the end of this novel,” she told herself, 


406 


FACE TO FACE. 


“for I must find out whether Gwendolen 
marries Deronda or not. It doesn’t look like it 
now ; but of course she will. I shouldn’t like the 
book if she didn’t. I’d detest it.” 

Thus communing, she hurried on to the house, 
returning as soon as was practicable to the cozy 
nook by the fountain which she had found, and 
was soon deep in the pages of her book again. 

Meanwhile Aunt Hester had hurried on to the 
hotel when she had parted from Jessie, in great 
haste to acquaint Nadine with the startling intel- 
ligence that the Wetherell’s were guests at the 
house. 

Nadine was not in her rooms. No doubt she 
had gone for a stroll about the grounds, or for a 
drive. She might meet them. What a painful 
position that would place her in. 

There was nothing for it but to wait for her 
with all the fortitude she could summon. How 
long Nadine remained ! It seemed an age to her. 

Would she never return, that she might warn 
her ? 

Aunt Hester’s surmise had been quite correct. 

Tempted by the beauty of the morning, Nadine 
had gone forth to enjoy the quiet beauty of the 
sunlight on the Scottish heather-crowned hills. 

“What a strange, eventful life I have had of 


FACE TO FACE. 


407 


it,” she murmured, raising her eyes to the blue 
sky. “ Ah me, how much one can go through, 
and still exist. Only twenty, and hope and happi- 
ness lying dead— buried out of sight in the dark 
past ; nothing to look forward to in the future 
that might last for long, wearisome years. 

“It takes love to brighten life, and make it 
worth the living,” she moaned, with a great, sob- 
bing cry. “ Without love, how drear and dead 
the world seems. One day is like another— 
nothing to cheer it !” 

And the words of a song Aunt Hester often 
sang recurred to her : 


“ Oh, this world is a wide world of sorrow; ^ 
Can e’en those who smile efface the sad tear, 
With no one to welcome the light of to-morrow, 
No one to share it, when sunshine is here I” 


What to her were the plaudits of the multitude, 
when the one she cared for turned coldly away ! 

She had tried so hard to hate him, but she 
ended by loving him more hopelessly than ever. 

He had never forgiven her for leaving him so 
unceremoniously, and he never would. But what 
could she have done ? She could not remain, and 
to have told him why, there and then, would have 
been more bitter than death. 


4:08 


FACE TO FACE. 


It was an idle thought ; but, oh, how she 
wished she had died in her infancy. 

She made a fair picture, standing there under 
the trees, with the wide stretch of hawthorne 
blossoms for a background, and the blue-bells 
peeping up from the heather beneath her feet ; 
but Nadine did not know it, or, if she did, she 
would not have cared. It mattered little enough 
to her whether she were fair or not. 

She walked slowly on until she came to a 
rustic seat, near a fountain. 

On the rustic seat she beheld a book. Doubtless 
its owner had laid it down and forgotten it. 

Nadine picked it up, and found the work to be 
“ Daniel Deronda.” 

She hesitated a moment, debating whether or 
not she should take it to the hotel with her, and 
leave it with the clerk at the office, who took 
charge of lost packages, or leave it where she had 
found it. 

Fate settled the question unexpectedly for her. 

“Fido! Fido ! You horrid little beast,” she 
heard a fresh young voice cry out sharply 
through the trees not very far off. “ Come here, 
instantly ! Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! What a chase 
you’ve led me. The next time you are brought 
out for an airing you shall have a chain fastened 


FACE TO FACE. 


409 


to your collar, instead of a ribbon, for you to 
gnaw into, because you found me so engrossed in 
my book, you sly thing. Come here, I say ! I’m 
out of breath now. Won’t you get it, though, 
when I do catch you ?” 

Nadine smiled. This was undoubtedly the 
owner of the book. 

At a distance, through the trees, she could see 
the skirmish going on, in the young girl’s 
endeavor to capture the frisky little animal, who 
was certainly making the most of finding himself 
very unexpectedly at liberty to roam where fancy 
willed. 

“ You’ve made me tear my new mull dress into 
ribbons, Fido,” cried the girlish voice, in desperate 
vexation. “Now I’ll have you if it takes all day 
to capture you ; and when I do you’ll pay for this. 
A pretty looking sight I am now, to be sure.” 

How strangely familiar that girlish voice 
sounded to Nadine. She listened to it as in a 
dream. 

The little poodle came scurrying down the path, 
the girl flying breathlessly helter-skelter after 
him. 

Nadine stooped down and caught the blue 
ribbon as Fido attempted to leap past her, bring- 


410 


LET ME DIE !” 


in g the dog to a stand-still just as the young girl 
turned a sharp bend in the walk, running breath- 
lessly up to her. 


CHAPTER LXIV. 

“LET ME TURN MY FACE TO THE WALL — AND 
DIE !” 

“Pm sure I do not knowhow to thank you 
enough for coming to my rescue in capturing 
Fido for me !” Jessie Wetherell exclaimed, sweep- 
ing her broad-brim med hat back from a very 
flushed and heated pretty face. “He’s the most 
tantalizing — ” 

“Jessie Wetherell !” mutters Nadine. 

For one instant they stand there in dismay, 
gazing constrainedly into each other’s face. Then 
the dog and everything else is forgotten. Jessie 
rushes headlong up to the cold, proud figure 
standing there, and clasps her in her arms, crying 
out : 

“ Oh, Nadine ! Nadine ! I have found you at 
last l” 

It is impossible to remove the clasp of those 
tight, clinging arms, or to resist the shower of 


“ LET ME DIE \” 


411 


kisses those warm, rosy lips press without stint 
on her own. 

“ Let us sit right down here, Naddy,” said 
Jessie, “ and have a real good talk and an 
explanation as to how you — whom we have all 
been mourning over as dead, lying cold and dead 
beneath the sea waves — are here in the flesh. 
Oh, what a day this will be to brother Gilbert, 
Heaven bless him ! He will alm ost die of joy ! 
Oh, Nadine, you do not know how he loves you.” 

Nadine raised her bowed curly head and looked 
into Jessie’s face in the greatest of wonderment. 

“ Head !” she repeated. “ Why should you 
have thought that, Jessie ? I — I — do not under- 
stand.” 

Then slowly, little by little, the whole story 
came out on both sides, Nadine confessing just 
why in that dark, horrible past she had been 
forced to leave Gilbert — because the man to whom 
she was wedded in secret, and whom she had 
believed to be dead long since, suddenly confronted 
her ; of his subsequent death, and of her life from 
that moment to this. 

“ I thought as long as Captain Osmond was dead 
I could bury that dark page of my history care- 
fully out of sight ; that no one would ever know 
— no one would ever find it out.” sobbed Nadine. 


412 


LET ME DIE!” 


“After the captain died, in all truth — I— I — 
tried to confess all to Gilbert,” she faltered, “ but 
he gave me no opportunity. I believed he had 
learned to hate me.” 

“I do not believe a true, great and noble love 
can ever turn to hate,” declared Jessie, emphati- 
cally. “ True love never dies. And it will be the 
happiest moment of my life when you and Gilbert 
are reunited,” whispered Jessie — “for, oh, 
Naddy darling, he has suffered so much. Let us 
go in search of him at once,” she concluded ; 
“every moment is precious time wasted;” but 
Nadine hung back, covered with confusion, now 
that the supreme moment of her life was at hand. 

“Jessie,” she said, piteously, “let it be your 
mission to go to Gilbert, and tell him all . I — I— 
could not do it. -0 

“I will,” returned Jess, throwing her arms 
about the slender, graceful figure. “You shall 
remain here right where you are, and he shall 
come to you. There never could be a more 
delightful place for the re-uniting of estranged 
lovers than this bower of roses.” 

How long Nadine sat there listening to the 
splashing of the low musical fountain, she never 
knew. She awakened from her rosy day dream 
at last with a start, realizing long hours must 


“let me die!” 


413 


have passed away. It was early morning when 
Jessie had left her on that happy mission, now the 
sun had climbed to the zenith. 

What if Jessie had told him all and he refused 
to come to her? The very thought made her 
almost fall back fainting in her seat. 

With unsteady steps she walked slowly over 
the greensward down the graveled paths and up 
the steps that led to the porch. 

Quite a number of ladies were grouped about, 
here and there chattering and gossiping as only 
ladies leading indolent lives at hotels can. 

As Nadine passed one group she heard that 
which turned the blood to ice in her veins. 

4 ‘Their departure was certainly most unex- 
pected,” she heard a lady say. “I am quite sure 
I understood the young girl to state particularly 
that they intended remaining at least a fortnight ; 
even the clerk of the house is mystified as to what 
took three of his best-paying guests off so uncere- 
moniously and mysteriously.” 

“What is the great mystery you are discuss- 
ing?” exclaimed another lady, joining the group. 
‘ ‘ If there’s anything I do dote on, it’s mysteries. 
What is the sensation ?” 

“ We were just discussing the strange disappear- 
ance of a party who came here this morning. 


414 


“ LET ME DIE !” 


After securing their rooms they mysteriously dis- 
appeared, and in such great haste that even their 
baggage is left behind. No cause is assigned ; not 
the faintest excuse for such strange conduct is 
offered. The hotel proprietor is left to infer what- 
ever he pleases.” 

“ But what party is it? — who are they? 
exclaimed the other. 

“ The Wetherells, of New T York,” was the reply. 

Nadine hurried away, groping her way along 
like one stricken blind. The very powder of reason- 
ing seemed to have suddenly left her. 

How she reached her room she never knew. 
She was conscious of tapping lightly, and of Aunt 
Hester opening the door, of hearing a terrified cry 
from her aunt’s lips, then falling through space, 
and her aunt’s arms flung out to save her. 

“She has seen them” muttered Aunt Hester, 
gathering up the slender figure, and laying her on 
her couch, as though she were but an infant. 

She did not summon Nadine’s maid. She did 
not want the girl to see that ghastly face, and to 
hear the bitter moans that would be sure to fall 
from her lips when memory drifted back. 

She administered a strong cordial to Nadine — 
forcing it between the locked, set teeth — and 
when she was sure Nadine slept, and that it would 


LET ME DIE !” 


415 


be long hours before she would awaken, Aunt 
Hester stole softly from the room, locking the 
door after her, and placing the key in her pocket. 

“Of course, she has seen some of them” she 
muttered, “ and Heaven only knows what passed 
between them. This much I know : they have 
wounded my darling in some way to the death, 
and they shall answer for it to me ! I shall get 
at the head and front of this whole affair by send- 
ing for Gilbert Wetherell. He shall face me at 
last.” 

Great was Aunt Hester’s consternation to find 
that they had suddenly and mysteriously left the 
place. 

“ Indeed, left so suddenly they had not taken 
time to collect their baggage, and will, no doubt, 
order it forwarded to them.” 

Aunt Hester turned and walked slowly back to 
her room. 

Would Nadine ever tell her what had taken 
place between them ? she wondered. 


416 


HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE. 


CHAPTER XLV. 

HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE— AND FORGET. 

When Nadine struggled back to consciousness 
she found Aunt Hester seated beside her couch, 
weeping softly. 

“Naddy, my darling,” she said, as the great 
dark eyes opened slowly, “are you better, dear?” 

Should she ask Nadine to confide in her? Aunt 
Hester ruminated ; and while she was debating 
the question in her own mind Nadine caught her 
hands in her own with a bitter cry. 

“ Oh ! Aunt Hester,” she sobbed, “ you cannot 
guess who is here.” 

“I know , Naddy,” was the quick reply. “ Gil- 
bert Wetherell, his mother and his sister. I 
hurried to you to warn you of their presence here, 
Naddy, but you had gone out into the grounds 
I feared you would meet them. Did you, 
Nadine ?” 

“ I met Jessie, Gilbert’s sister,” murmured 
Nadine. 

Then with an impulsive motion, she threw her 
arms around Aunt Hester’s neck, and amidst her 
choking sobs told her all that had transpired. 


HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE. 


417 


“ There is but one conclusion, Aunt Hester,” 
she added, faintly : “ Gilbert could not and would 
not forget my— my -deception ; for it was that, 
and nothing else, withholding my terrible secret of 
the past to him.” 

The shock of hearing for the first time just why 
Nadine had fled from Gilbert Wetherell w r as 
indeed a startling one to Aunt Hester. She could 
hardly credit her ears as to what Captain Osmond 
had been to Nadine. Wedded and widowed, and 
she but a child ! It seemed more like a dream to 
Aunt Hester than a reality. No wonder it had 
shocked Gilbert Wetherell. 

4 4 All the subsequent trouble that has been 
brought about would have been spared you, my 
darling, if you had but made a confidante of Gil- 
bert when he asked you to be his wife,” said Aunt 
Hester, gravely adding : 44 Ah ! dear child, there 
never should be any dark secrets in the lives of 
either of the two who stand before the altar, 
which they strive to hold from each other ; mis- 
ery and sorrow are sure to come to it.” 

4 4 If I had but made a confidante of you , aunt, 
life would have been different, perhaps,” sobbed 
Nadine; ‘ 4 but what is done cannot be undone. 
We will go quietly away to the other end of the 
world. Gilbert Wetherell shall never look upon 


418 


HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE. 


my face again in life. He would not listen to a 
reconciliation, and thought that the best way 
would be to leave Edinburgh without delay, that 
we might not meet face to face. ” 

“Do not grieve over it, Naddy, darling,” said 
Aunt Hester. “ Say this to your heart : 

“We can live without him.” 

They set about making their preparations to 
leave the place at once. 

The landlord of the hotel was dumbfounded 
when he heard that he was to lose two more of his 
best-paying guests in quite as sudden a manner 
as the Wetherells had gone. 

“Was there anything the matter?” he asked 
himself. “A few more such cases of sudden and 
mysterious leaving, and the public would inquire 
if the fault lay with the management of the hotel ;* 
that would be a serious matter.” 

While Aunt Hester and Nadine busy themselves 
over their preparations for their departure, you 
and I will look into the true cause, dear reader, of 
the sudden and unaccountable departure of the 
Wetherells. 

To do this, we must return to the hour in which 
Jessie parted from Nadine, promising to send her 
brother to her. 


HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE. 


419 


Jessie fairly flew back to the hotel, and to their 
suite of rooms ; but her mother and brother were 
not there. 

Suddenly it occurred to her that her mother had 
gone to the train, to see a lady friend off ; of 
course Gilbert had accompanied her. 

With all the impetuosity of a thoughtless school 
girl Jessie hurried after them, for the railway 
station was but a few blocks distant. 

Catching sight of Gilbert’s face at a window of 
one of the coaches, despite the guard, who would 
have stopped her flying footsteps, Jess sprang 
aboard, calling to her brother. 

At that instant the train gave a sudden lurch 
forward, precipitating Jess at full length to the 
floor of the coach, and with such force as to 
render her for a moment unconscious. 

In an instant Gilbert was by her side, laving 
her face with cold water, which he had taken 
from the tank, assuring his mother Jessie was not 
hurt, merely stunned. 

There was the greatest commotion in the coni’ 
partment over the affair, for Mrs. Wetherell was 
greatly frightened. 

In the excitement the guard’s voice calling “all 
aboard,” was not heeded, and in an instant later 
the express swept out from the station under full 


420 


HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE. 


headway. They realized their position at once, 
but there was no help for it ; the train was whirl- 
ing away from Edinburgh, carrying them with it. 

The next stopping place was some three hours 
ride distant, and they made up their minds to 
make the best of it. 

As we have said, Jessie’s faculties remained 
stunned for only a few moments ; then full con- 
sciousness returned to her. 

When she realized what had occurred — that 
they were on the train speeding away from Edin- 
burgh as fast as steam could carry them— she 
burst into hysterical tears, crying out that the 
train must be stopped at once, and refused to be 
comforted, when Gilbert assured her that would 
be practically impossible. 

“I have something to tell you, Gilbert,” she 
went on, breathlessly. “ Oh, if you only knew 
about it ! It would drive you mad to know that, 
with each moment, you were being taken farther 
and farther from Edinburgh,” she added, sobbing. 

“ What in the world does she mean, Gilbert f” 
exclaimed Mrs. Wetherell, turning helplessly to 
her son. 

Gilbert shook his head and smiled. 

‘ 4 If he only knew what I know, he would not 


HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE. 


421 


stand there shaking his head and smiling,” cried 
Jess, in exasperation. 

“ Then why don’t you tell him, my dear?” sug- 
gested Mrs. Wetherell, complacently, as she 
turned away and resumed her seat with her lady 
friend. 

“I could never have told what I have to tell 
you before mamma, Gilbert, dear,” she said, 
making room for him beside her; ‘‘she would 
have fainted outright, I am sure.” 

Gilbert Wetherell began to understand that it 
was certainly something out of the ordinary that 
so disturbed Jessie. He took her little hands 
caressingly in his. 

“Now, Jessie,” he said, banteringly, “ I am 
willing, nay, anxious, to listen to this wonderful 
story !” 

A few moments later, Mrs. Wetherell, who 
was sitting at the other end of the compartment, 
heard a deep groan, and glancing up, saw Jessie 
and Gilbert talking together earnestly, and Gil- 
bert’s face, as he raised it from his trembling 
hands, was as white as death. 

“Now, what can be the] matter?” she mur- 
mured, in an agony of doubt, as she made her 
way toward them as best she could, owing to the 
swaying motion of the coach. 


422 


HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE. 


“ Mother,” he cried, as she dropped into the 
seat opposite him, “ listen to what Jessie tells me ! 
Nadine — is — alive ! She has seen her — talked 
with her ! Nadine is at this moment in — Edin- 
burgh !” 

“ Impossible, my boy I” exclaimed Mrs. Wetln 
erell, in bewilderment. “ Jessie has made some 
great mistake.” 

“ You will not say that when you have heard 
all,” declared Jessie, laughing through her tears. 

And very briefly, for the second time, Jessie 
recounted her adventure of that morning ; how 
she had run across Nadine, their mutual recogni- 
tion of each other, apd the wonderful explanations 
that followed on both sides, and concluded by 
telling how she had left Nadine sitting by the 
fountain with the understanding that Gilbert 
should be sent to her there. 

“I found you had gone on the train, and I 
hurried on after you, that Gilbert might be sent 
back without delay. You know the rest. Oh, 
dear ! oh, dear ! what will Nadine think ?” 

Mrs. Wetherell was almost overcome by the 
startling intelligence ; but, as usual in all cases 
of emergency, the lady was quite helpless as to 
what to advise. 


HE WILL NEVER FORGIVE. 


423 


“In the face of all this, shall you take Nadine 
back to your heart, Gilbert ?” she asked, anxiously. 
/^“Did you doubt, even for a moment, mother, 
that I would ?” he asked, reproachfully. 

“ I — I did not know,” she replied. 

“ Although I have not the claim on Nadine, it 
seems, that I thought I had,” he went on, slowly, 
“still she is all the world to me. I have tested 
what life is without her — a dreary blank — a 
desolate existence. I shall fly to her at once, and 
never rest day or night again until she is mine ; 
for you hear what Jessie says — Nadine loves me 
still r 

“ But what will she think when you do not 
come to her?” persisted Jessie. “ She is proud- 
spirited.” 

“ I can soon explain all that when we meet,” 
returned Gilbert, gayly. 

They took the next returning express train, 
arriving at Edinburgh just, as the first gray shad- 
ows of early twilight were settling over the Scot- 
tish hills. 


m 


love’s young dream. 


CHAPTER XL VI. 

love’s young dream is realized at last. 

It was evening, beautiful and balmy ; the 
golden-hearted stars had come out one by one 
and fixed themselves in the blue dome overhead, 
in which a young crescent moon hung like a glit- 
tering jewel, shedding its pale, white light on 
the sleeping trees and flowers. 

Nadine had come out into the grounds alone, to 
bid good-bye to the fountain, and the rustic seat 
where one bright gleam of happiness had come to 
her only that day, and which had flickered across 
her path but one brief hour, only to die out like a 
glancing meteor, leaving her life lonelier and 
darker than ever. 

She heard the far-off shriek of the incoming 
train, but paid little heed to it other than to 
murmur : 

“ I shall have just an hour to spend by myself 
here. Then the coach will be at the door to take 
me to the station. Ah, how sorry I am that I 
ever came here !” 

Little did Nadine dream what was transpiring 
within the hotel at that particular moment. 


love’s young dream. 


425 


Gilbert Wetherell could scarcely wait with 
patience when he entered the parlor and sent up 
his card to Nadine’s apartments, begging her to 
see him at the earliest possible moment. 

As Nadine was out into the grounds the card 
fell into Aunt Hester’s hands, who fairly glared 
at the bit of pasteboard as she mastered its con- 
tents. 

“I am to bring the gentleman an answer, 
ma’am,” said the bell-boy, loitering by the door ; 
“ that is what he said.” 

“I will take him his answer,” returned Aunt 
Hester, grimly. 

With firm tread, she walked swiftly down the 
corridor, her eyes flashing, her hands clenched 
tightly into the folds of the lace handkerchief she 
carried, and the bitterest anger surging in her 
bosom against Wetherell. 

A moment later she entered the reception- 
room. 

The tall figure who had been pacing restlessly 
up and down rushed forward as the door opened. 

Instead of the slim, girlish figure he had 
expected to see on the threshold, he beheld— 
Aunt Hester. 

The shock of the disappointment was but 


426 


love’s young deeam. 


momentary. He sprang forward with out- 
stretched hands, murmuring : 

“ Aunt Hester, is this indeed you f This is 
indeed a most pleasant surprise finding that you 
are with Nadine. ” 

Aunt Hester stood grimly in the doorway, her 
arms folded tightly across her thin, spare chest. 

“Will you tell me why you wished to see 
Nadine?” she asked, icily, adding : “You have 
almost broken her heart already. I do not pro- 
pose that you shall add another heart pang if I 
can prevent it.” 

“ Heaven forbid that I should cause my dar- 
ling one pang,” he cried. 

“ I see that you are evidently laboring under 
some strange delusion, Aunt Hester,” he went 
on. “ Do, I pray you, allow me to set matters 
right. Listen, and let me convince you of what a 
strange series of mistakes has drifted Nadine and 
myself apart.” 

Be it said to Aunt Hester’s credit, she was not 
beyond listening. 

Ten minutes afterward, Aunt Hester was sit- 
ting beside Gilbert, sobbing as though her heart 
would break, as he concluded his narrative. 

“What little events separate human lives, and 


love's young dream. 


427 


drift hearts that Heaven destined to love each 
other, wide apart,” she murmured. 

“ Gilbert,” she added, “you have my full and 
free consent to woo and win Nadine over again if 
you can ; and,” she whispered, shyly, laying her 
hand on the young man’s shoulder, “ if I know 
the state of her feelings toward you, it will not 
be difficult. You will find her somewhere in the 
grounds, Gilbert.” 

Without waiting to hear more, the impatient 
lover seized his hat, and hurried out into the 
moon-lit grounds. 

In a rather isolated nook, by the fountain, he 
saw a slim, girlish figure, standing with her back 
toward him. At the first glance he knew it was 
Nadine. 

With stealthy steps he drew nearer — his foot- 
falls making no sound on the thick, velvety lawn 
— drew so near her that he could have reached out . 
his hand and touched the dark, bowed, curly 
head from where he stood. 

For one moment he stood there watching with 
eager, passionate delight, -the lovely face on which 
the moonlight fell. Of what was she thinking as 
she stood there ? He was soon to know. He saw 
Nadine clasp her little hands— white as lily leaves 


428 


love’s young dream. 


— together, and raise her large dark eyes to the 
golden stars. 

“Gilbert,” he heard her murmur, “you will 
never know how well I have loved you — how I 
love you yet. Oh, bright stars and listening 
angels, teach me to forget him !”. she sobbed. 

A shadow fell between her and the moonlight, 
a pair of strong masculine arms encircled her, and 
a voice that made every pulse in her being vibrate 
cried, gayly : 

“ That is just what he does not want you to do, 
Nadine. He would be the most miserable fellow 
the earth held if you learned to forget him.” 

“ Gilbert ! Gilbert — Wetherell !” gasped Na- 
dine, attempting to struggle out of the arms that 
held her fast — held her a close prisoner against 
his throbbing breast — and blushing and paling in 
the greatest confusion. 

“Yes, my darling, your own Gilbert, who, 
knowing all , has come here to claim you, I was 
going to say ; but I will add, after I have wooed 
and won you all over again, to claim you, for you 
cannot take back the secret you whispered to the 
stars. You love me still.” 

They spent an hour together out in the garden 
moonlight. Oh, how much there was to talk 
over and explain ! And when Gilbert begged her 


love's young dream. 


429 


to make him happy at last by settling a certain 
question, Nadine could not refuse. 

What a joyful evening that was ! Jessie Weth- 
erell declared all honor was due to her for bring- 
ing the estranged lovers together ; and they all 
agreed with her. Mrs. .Wetherell smiled with 
delight to see her handsome son so happy at 
last, and Aunt Hester insisted that it was the 
happiest day of her life, seeing life, light and glad- 
ness once more in Nadine’s dark, dreamy eyes. 

“ We must have a wedding at once ; that is the 
only proper finale to a love story, whether it is in 
books or in real life,” declared Jess, gayly. 

“ Shall it be ‘ at once,’ darling ?” whispered Gil- 
bert, bending over the blushing face ; and with 
those eager, loving, entreating eyes looking down 
into her own, how could she say no ; and pretty 
Nadine’s answer was, as it should be, a timid, 
happy — “ Yes, Gilbert, if — you — will have it so.” 

Of course he would have it so ; what lover 
wouldn’t? So they were married the very next 
day ; and there never was such a gala scene as the 
grand drawing-room presented ever witnessed in 
Edinburgh before. Those who attended the wed- 
ding of the handsome, wealthy American and his 
lovely American bride loved to tell, for years 
afterwards, how magnificent the affair was. The 


430 


love’s young dream. 


room was a bower of exotics, and the bride — ah, 
well, she was simply divine, even in her plain 
white mull dress, wfiiich fitted her superb form to 
perfection ; for her youth and exquisite beauty 
were a crown in themselves. 

Two days later the happy party boarded the 
steamer for home, sweet home, and ten days later 
arrived in New York. 

In the exuberance of her joy, Nadine had sent 
a cablegram to Mrs. Dorchester and Maud, telling 
them she would soon arrive home with her hus- 
band, Gilbert Wetherell. 

Maud tore the cablegram into a thousand shreds, * 
with a low, bitter cry. 

“Re united at last, are they, after all my plot- 
ting and planning,” she murmured. “Mother,” 
she said, hoarsely, “ I believe, whatever is to be- 
ivill be.” 

“ There is a destiny which shapes our ends, 

Rough hew them as we may.” 

Maud and her mother were among the first to 
welcome Gilbert and Nadine back to New York, 
but they always declined visiting Nadine to stay 
long, and Nadine never knew, never dreamed that 
her happiness was like a sword in Maud’s heart — 
that she could not endure to witness it. Some 


love’s young dream. 


431 


time later Maud met and married Frank Ren wick, 
the young artist, who managed to escape the 
wrecked steamer that had gone down in mid- ocean, 
and perhaps the bitterest drop in her cup of anger 
and chagrin is the knowledge that he, too, once 
loved Nadine. 

Jessie Wetherell is soon to be wedded, as our 
story nears its close, and Nadine draws the girl’s 
head down on her shoulder as they talk over the 
future together, and softly whispers : 

“You have made your choice carefully and 
well, Jessie darling ; may you and handsome 
Stanton Tracy have a sunny life together. Keep 
no secrets from him, dear ; say to yourself : 
‘ Nadine’s experience shall be a warning to me. 
She and Gilbert might have been happy long ago, 
if it had not been for one act of folly that marred 
her earlier years, and that one act of folly was, 
the Mad Betrothal that bound her— in a thought- 
less moment of pique— to another.’ ” 


THE END. 


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A NEW NOVEL 

By the Author of “The Leavenworth Case.” 


The Forsaken Inn. 

BY 

ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. 

ILLUSTRATED. 

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